The CoverUp
by Bandito Sun
Summary: Eli has his secrets, but then again so does Clare. Is she really the innocent girl she appears to be, or is she hiding something horrid behind the "mask" of Saint Clare? Drugs, violence, Psycho-Clare, sexual situations, AU.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Well, months after of re-entering the Degrassi fanfiction world, I've decided to take a swing at actually writing one of these suckers. Warning to all: this fic is somewhat AU; I know, I know. Usually I avoid reading anything AU, and yet when it comes to writing, pretty much all of my fanfics are based in some alternate reality, mainly focusing on a "weak" or "nerdy" character and transforming them into a fucking badass. In this case that character is Clare Edwards, a (formally?) nerdy character who has risen to popularity over season 10. However, this isn't some done-to-death fanfic where Clare is goth or a cutter. So what makes this fic AU? What makes Clare badass? Ever watch the show _Dexter_? I'd like to it's something like that. Also, this fic features an OC, another one of my fandom turn-offs and yet I find myself creating one. And on a final note, this story will go chronological order, meaning the Degrassi crew (Eli, Adam, etc.) doesn't make an appearance until after Clare's fabricated back story is set-up; a back story that is completely unrelated to that of the actual show. Well if I haven't completely bored you into switching to some other website, than give it a read (and then a review, be as mean as you want).

Summary: Is it possible, in this modern age for someone as innocent and reserved as Clare Edwards to even exist? Or is the entity of "Saint Clare" just a mask to cover-up a deeper disturbance? What happens when the mask begins to slip, and the reputation she built becomes threatened by a horrid past?

Disclaimer: I do not own _Degrassi_ or any of its characters.

**The Cover-Up**

To anyone at Degrassi Community School who knew her, the name Clare Edwards triggered several words. Innocent; she seemed incapable of breaking the rules. Intelligent; her reputation as a "brain" had been constant since first grade. Virginal; the purity ring and the silver cross said it all. But this was all they thought of her, because that was the only side of herself that Clare showed to the external world. For the sake of her family, she went to church and attended youth group meetings, but she never shared her _true_ feelings about religion, her life or her family with anyone at school or church. All they got was a cookie-cutter image of a good Christian girl, perfectly portrayed down to the last detail.

She was thoroughly convincing in this role, perhaps Oscar-worthy. The entire school was convinced that she was a know-it-all Jesus freak. But deep down, behind the cross, the purity ring, and the high IQ; Clare Edwards wasn't really sure of what she was, besides empty. Not that she would ever admit it out loud, but to Clare, the bible was just another work of fiction. School was a haven for idiots and hormones. And her perfect Christian family was not really her family at all.

Perhaps the biggest secret harbored by Randall and Helen Edwards, from the rest of the world was an unfortunate miscarriage that occurred when Darcy was only six years old. The events that followed this tragedy resulted in the adoption of three-year old girl with bright blue eyes that sparkled with uneasy amount of mistrust. Her adoption was unorthodox to say the least. Randall contacted an old college buddy at an adoption agency with hopes of claiming a child with as little wait as possible. Helen had been crushed by the miscarriage, and the only thought that brought her ease was the thought of another child, a sibling for Darcy, and the final piece to a perfect family portrait.

Randall's connection was able to make good on the deal; he used his own connections with the Vancouver police force to find a child ready for adoption. The child in question was a girl, barely past her third birthday and recently orphaned as a result of her mother's gruesome murder. She had no other family, and since her mother was broke, she had no real records besides a birth certificate. Helen didn't question her husband about how he was able to adopt a child without any screening process or waiting period. But that didn't stop Randall from questioning his friend at the agency about the speediness of the adoption.

With much reluctance, Randall's friends told him about how the child was orphaned. Recently, the Vancouver homicide department discovered the scene of a gruesome crime in an old warehouse. Five people had been murdered, torn apart to be exact- by dogs. The teeth marks in the flesh and roughness of the severed limbs had been an indicator to the medical examiner. The floor of the warehouse was a mess of blood and body parts with the occasional clump of dog hair. But perhaps the most heartbreaking sight at the initial examination of the crime scene was the presence of young girl, curled beneath an old table. The blood from the victims stained her light blue pajamas.

One of the officers working the scene, Daryl Scottson, immediately recognized the girl as the child of one his female Criminal Informants. Originally brought in on drug charges, she agreed to work as a Criminal Informant for the police in order to avoid jail time. He had worked very closely with the woman in recent weeks, planning what would be a huge sting on a shipment of cocaine to Vancouver. She was very nervous about the situation, fearing for her life and that of her daughter's. All she wanted was to leave her criminal past behind her and be a mother. Scottson promised her over and over again that everything would go smoothly and that she would soon be free of her debt to the justice system. The ambush was scheduled for the day after they had discovered her body along with four other poor souls.

Someone had talked, he had failed her.

Scottson knew his only shot at redemption was to find her daughter a good home, putting her in a group home just wouldn't do. He immediately made a phone call to his family friend at a top-rated adoption agency and told him of the child. The girl's mother named her Maya, Randall and Helen Edwards re-named her Clare.

Randall almost called the deal off when he first hear about his new daughter's past, worrying that it create serious psychological problems later in life. But his friend assured him that children Clare's age can easily forget traumatic events; it was the mind's way of protecting them. As it turned out, things went fine. Helen was smiling again, Darcy reacted to the presence of a sibling with much joy and minimal questions, and Clare (despite her initial quietness) was indeed a beautiful child. He didn't bother to tell his wife about Clare's past other than her original name, which Helen, for a lack of a better term- despised.

"Maya? It's so…ethnic-sounding." Helen quipped as she examined the child for the first time. "It's not at all fitting for such an angelic face. Do you think changing it s out of the question?"

"Not really." Randall answered honestly. "She's still young, if we start her off with a new name now, chances are she won't even remember the name Maya when she's older."

They decided upon the name that was supposed to go to Helen's failed pregnancy- Clare. Randall, being an inquisitive man, had looked up both names. The name "Clare", of Latin and French origin, meant clear and bright. The name "Maya" had several meanings in various languages; but perhaps the one that struck Randall the most was the Sanskrit meaning- illusion. It was ironic- the child's new name proclaimed her clear and truthful, while her old one marked her as a lie. Common logic suggested the meanings be switched, but Randall made no mention of that to anyone.

Randall knew that he couldn't keep Clare's origin a secret from her forever, but the years in which followed were perhaps that happiest of his marriage. The four of them, together and happy. Shortly after Clare's adoption, Randall was offered a job at a law firm in Toronto, prompting the family to pack up their home in Kingston. Not only was Randall getting a bigger paycheck, but the move would also make it easier to hide the truth about their adopted daughter.

Clare was around nine years old when her suspicions about being adopted kicked in. Darcy had told her so, and even though she knew this was something that all siblings told each other, she couldn't help but think Darcy was right. She looked nothing like her family-their brown eyes, tan complexions, and straight hair. Her eyes were oceanic blue, her skin was one shade away from albino and her hair fell into annoying little curls. But it was really the sense of otherness that ate away ate her.

When she approached her father about the issue, she was surprised by his nervous manner. After fumbling with his words, Randall came clean…almost. He told Clare that her real mother had died when she was very little and that she should feel very special and loved to have been adopted instead of living in an orphanage. Clare took the news decently enough.

That night, Clare had _the dream_ for the first time. A woman with sad blue eyes kneeled in front of her, pleading her to close her eyes, to look away. She tried to run towards the woman, to help her, but a strong pair of hands held back her small frame with ease. And then, the barking started, and the woman was swarmed by several vicious looking dogs as they tore into her already beaten body.

Clare woke up from the dream in a cold sweat and ran to her parent's room, ignoring Darcy's sleepy questions. Clare told her half-asleep parents about the dream and Randall instantly felt wide awake. He told Helen to go back to sleep and brought Clare downstairs to his office, where he explained to the stone-faced nine year old about her mother's death, and how she watched it happen. He told her how it was important for her never to tell anyone about it. The very next morning, Randall woke the family up early to go to church, something they usually only did on Easter and Christmas. Helen, who always felt like they should be attending services more, questioned him with giddiness. Randall answered-

"I feel like the girls need a deeper connection to their religion." Helen was overjoyed by this revelation and even more so by the proposal to enroll Darcy and Clare at a private Catholic school as well as youth group meetings. However, Randall was going to church more so for himself than for his daughters. Now that Clare knew the truth, things would only get steadily worse within the family. He needed something to help hold it all together.

Darcy took to her religion immediately, but Clare showed hesitance. Being a skeptical child, she had enough trouble believing in Santa Clause, yet alone the lord almighty. Randall made her promise to go along with it, for his sake. Clare agreed, feeling somewhat closer to the man who was legally her father; they had a deal, they had a secret.

"Just think of it as wearing a mask. "He told her. "Even though you don't believe what the preacher is saying, make him and everyone else think you do. Never tell anyone that you don't care for any of this. When you're all grown-up, you do what you will with faith, but for now, just –"

"Lie?" she questioned.

"It's not really lying; you're just…withholding information. Just like you need to do with what happened to your mother." Randall knew all these secrets could be confusing to a nine year old, but Clare was exceptionally bright, not just for her age, but for anyone.

"Ok…dad."

As a reward, Randall presented Clare with two pieces of jewelry that would help to shape her mask- a purity ring and a silver cross on a chain. She wore them from that day forth, and played the role of a religious girl to the full extent.

At one point in time, Darcy owned a dog; a Yorkshire terrier named Scruffy, and he was solely Darcy's dog. She got him as a gift for her thirteenth birthday, a signifier of her growing responsibility on the path to adulthood. Clare never much cared for dogs, but after she found out what happened to her mother, she began to hate dogs with passion.

Needless to say, Darcy's thirteenth birthday present irked her somewhat. Darcy even let the dirty thing sleep in the room they shared, and once or twice she caught the little mongrel lying on her bed, shedding his filthy hair all over her clean sheets. If Darcy was watching, she would gently nudge the dog off her bed with annoyance, but if Darcy wasn't in the room, she would physically kick Scruffy onto the floor with her hardest pair of shoes on.

Randall insisted that the dog stay outside at night, tied up in the backyard. Scruffy would spend hours howling and barking at whatever noise the night made, but Darcy was a heavy sleeper and Randall and Helen slept on the other side of the house. Clare was the only one being tormented at night by the mangy animal, as if having dreams about savage dogs weren't enough now she had one sitting outside her window.

One night, it all became too much for Clare.

She kicked the sheets off her bed in annoyance, it was 3 AM and she had yet to sleep a wink, she wasn't even tired. With quiet feet, Clare slipped out the room and down the stairs, slowly opening the backdoor. Scruffy's attention turned to the opening door, he whimpered in anticipation at the promise of human company.

Clare walked towards the dog and stopped right in front of him.

"Shut up." She said softly, as if the animal could understand her. Scruffy barked in response.

"I said, shut up. I can't afford to fall asleep in school you mutt!" she hissed. Scruffy barked, yet again.

Clare's bright blue eyes narrowed into crosshairs. She grabbed the slack from the leash as well as Scruffy's neck. He immediately began struggling, trying to jerk his way out of her grip, but he was a small dog and still technically a puppy at that. Clare dropped to her knees to get a better hold of the beast before looping the leash around his neck several times.

She took hold of both ends of the leash and pulled with every ounce of strength her ten year old frame could produce. Scruffy tried to bark again, but it was quickly silenced into a strangled hiss. His eyes bugged out of his little head as if he was surprised, in shock that anyone could strangle such a loveable animal as himself.

But Clare didn't love Scruffy, she didn't really love anything.

After several long moments of Scruffy's fading pants, he dropped to the ground. Clare immediately felt a sense of pride, but it was soon washed away by an unbearable panic and for good reason too.

"Clare?" the girl in question whipped around to see her father standing before her in his pajamas and slippers. His eyes dropped down to the dead dog, and he did his best not to scream. After watching her father bite his lip hard for a few seconds, Clare decided to just be honest.

"He was keeping me up all night, Dad. If I fall asleep in Mother Janet's class again she'll give me the ruler!" she tried to explain. Randall just held his hand up.

"You don't need to justify anything, honey. Not right now anyway. Get Daddy his shovel; we can't let your sister see this." Clare returned with a shovel and watched as Randall quickly dug a shallow grave in the patch of dirt that Helen used a flower garden in the summer. While her father was occupied with creating Scruffy's final resting place, Clare removed the dog's collar, stuffing it in the pocket of her pajama pants- a keepsake.

After the corpse of Scruffy was buried away, Randall took his daughter into his office for yet another private chat. To be honest with his own self, Randall had always known this day would come: the day when Clare would harm a living being. How could it not? Trauma at a young age, watching your mother be torn apart by dogs- its how serial killers were made in most Hollywood movies.

"Clare, you can't tell anyone about Scruffy."

"I know."

"You know Darcy's going to very upset when she realizes Scruffy is missing. We're going to have to tell her that he ran away, chewed through the leash."

"Okay."

"Are you proud of what you did?" Randall winced when asked her; he almost didn't want to hear her answer.

"I know what I did was wrong, I know the bible says not to kill and I know how important that is to you, dad. But, what if some things… deserve to die?"

"What do you mean?"

"Scruffy never stopped barking at night. He was always getting fur on my bed and-" she stopped.

"And what?"

"And making me mad."

"You can't act out every time you're angry Clare, you have to suppress it. "

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I promise." She said it all with a straight face, as if they were engaged in heated game of poker. Randall couldn't tell if she was bluffing or not.

"It better not."

And so it was, another secret to add to the growing chain of lies that connected Randall to his adopted daughter. The next morning, Randall greeted his eldest daughter at the breakfast table with a "chewed up" leash and a sad look in his eyes. Darcy reacted as he expected, horribly. She screamed and cried before running off to her room to make "Missing Dog" posters. Clare sat through the entire thing, focused only on the bowl of cornflakes before her. Out of the corner of his, Randall could have sworn that he saw his younger daughter smiling as Darcy pounded up the stairs. He turned his head to look at her full-on, but she had already resumed to eat her cereal.

Months passed, and Darcy had given up on the search for Scruffy. Randall relented to his wife's pleas, and bought his eldest daughter a rabbit to help her forget about the dog that was secretly buried in the backyard. The rabbit mysteriously disappeared, as did the hamster he bought as a replacement pet. Darcy, heartbroken over the consecutive "disappearances" of her pets, decided to just give up on animals.

Unlike Scruffy, Randall had no idea what Clare did to Twinkle the rabbit and Jipper the hamster. Regardless, he knew she was responsible for destroying her sister's confidence in pet ownership. In contrast to "The Scruffy situation", Randall decided not to confront Clare on the matter; he had no evidence this time.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: If I didn't mention it before, Clare is quite OOC in this story, you're about to see even more of it. If you don't like it, read something else. Also, I'm using this chapter to introduce the OC, Eli won't be making an appearance until next chapter (if you were wondering).

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter 2

Fourteen year old Clare Edwards rubbed her eyes from beneath her round frame glasses, trying to will the redness out. Clouds of marijuana smoke swirled above her head like a whirlwind, an arm reached over from the other side of the shoddy couch, holding a tightly rolled, still-smoking joint.

"Visine works a lot better for that." Shane said as Clare snatched the joint from his hand and took a deep drag.

"Cram it up your ass, Newman." She snapped. Shane laughed.

If anyone from school could see this sight, Clare Edwards with a joint, they'd flip hard enough to check into a psychiatric center. But drugs weren't a big deal to Clare, despite what every educator preached. To Clare, drugs weren't cool or dangerous or even an escape; they were just something to do. But she avoided the Ravine like a cat avoids water; she preferred the cool sanctuary of Shane's basement.

Shane Newman, had been friends with Clare since her days in the private school system. Although Shane was technically half-Jewish, he had been enrolled at the Toronto Catholic Academy by his mother in order to instill some much needed discipline. Although it never seemed to work, Shane remained at the school, despite his hatred of everything it offered. Based on the stories he heard from Clare, he would much rather like to attend a school like Degrassi.

"So tell me again, why would you agree to help that idiot on his math test after he cheated on you?" Shane asked. Clare exhaled a cloud of smoke directly in his face.

"Because that's what was expected of me. I'm '_Saint Clare_'," she sneered, "I believe in second chances, I see the good in all people, I want to be everyone's friend." Clare said with a fake grin. Shane howled with laughter.

"Man, you must get so sick of that shit, day in and day out."

"Nah, it's all routine at this point. My reputation is pretty much set for the remainder of high school, just gotta fly under the radar and not kill anyone." She joked. "Also, KC technically didn't cheat on me, he just asked some tramp out two hours after he dumped me."

"I'm sorry about that, Clare. He has no idea what he's missing." Shane said with a serious tone. Clare chuckled.

"Please, one less idiot to deal with now. I always found him to be annoying, cute but annoying. Although it was interesting, having an emotional relationship with someone. Never thought I'd do that."

Shane could only nod in understanding. He took a hit of the joint and quickly passed it back to Clare, enjoying the momentary silence that came from their understanding. Much like Clare, Shane Newman was damaged. His father had owned a Deli in Brooklyn, but fell into problems with the Mafia over protection fees that were forced upon on him. The one thing Shane remembered best about the old Deli was the glass front; it was like one big window with a door in the middle, showcasing the Deli in its entirety to passersby.

But the one memory that was forever locked in his mind about the Deli was the last time he saw it in piece…

_Five year old Shane sat by himself in his father's car, watching in confusion as several men chained the doors to the business shut, so that no one could get in or out. They exited quickly, right before an explosion sounded from within the deli and the inside became engulfed in flames. Shane jumped out of the vehicle and ran across the street towards the building, the heat from the flames blasting his face. A dark figure banged into the glass from inside, he rattled and shook the doors, trying to escape. Shane couldn't tell who it was from the man's face- it was bloody and burned. But the figure wore a rust-colored leather jacket that was all too familiar to Shane. _

_It was his father's favorite jacket. _

_His heart almost stopped beating for a second before he lunged at the chained door handles, desperately trying to open the door while at the same time burning his hands; but he didn't even feel the pain. On the other side of the glass, his father was pounding at the glass in an effort to break through; but the damage to his body had weakened him greatly, and his pounds became weaker. Shane could hear his father's cries of pain and desperation over the crackling of the flames. Another witness managed to pry the young boy away from the door as his father stopped moving and slumped against the glass with a sickening smear of blood and skin._

"So, if KC was your emotional relationship, what are we?"

"Something on the side, something to keep me sane."

"Do I…still have to be on the side now that KC is out of the picture?" Shane asked hesitantly.

"Yes." Clare said simply.

"Why?"

"Because I can't be myself and what everyone thinks I am at the same time. I need boundaries in my life and I need you to respect them, just like I respect yours."

Shane hung his head in disappointment; he knew Clare was meant for him as far as soul mates go, if soul mates even exist. They had both witnessed tragedy, they were both plagued by nightmares and a surprising lack of feelings, they both had to keep up appearances around their family and at school.

They could never be seen together, that was Clare's rule.

The two of them together, in public, would arise questions. Clare's parents knew Shane, and never displayed any approval of him whenever he and Clare hung out as kids at her house. And introducing Shane to people like Alli or Connor, people she was friends with at Degrassi was out of the question. Shane couldn't act normal to save his life, he tended to come off as rude or hostile to people who weren't Clare.

But Clare was first and foremost his best friend. They had a connection, he was sure of it. At school he was an outsider, never forming long-term bonds with any other student outside of lab partners. His mother had become increasingly aloof since his father's death. Every year that passed she seemed more distant, physically and emotionally. Luckily his father's deli and life were insured handsomely, so holding a steady job wasn't necessary for her. Although she didn't work, Mrs. Newman was no stay-at-home mom.

Shane didn't know where she went all the time, he had stopped caring about that when he was in grade school.

"So does this mean you no longer want to continue this sordid affair?" Shane asked. Clare raised her eyebrow and gave a rare smirk.

In recent months, their teenage hormones had begun to wreak an admirable havoc on their unique friendship. It was almost fun for Clare, pretending to be hurt around KC for practically cheating on her when really she had been seeing Shane behind his back for the majority of their petty relationship. To add insult to his unknown injury, Clare had physically gone way farther with Shane than she ever had with KC. It was like she was two different people; Saint Clare couldn't go beyond sweet kisses, but with Shane it was a different case. Clothes sometimes found their way to the floor, but there was no sex, only release.

"I never said that." Shane grinned and leaned from across the couch, Clare meeting him halfway in a sloppy, but heated kiss. He slid his hand down her shoulder to her back and under her shirt, but she pulled away.

"Not today, I have to get home soon and I can't walk in there stoned off my ass. Could you brew some coffee or something?" Clare asked. Shane sighed in annoyance but changed his expression quickly when he remembered-

"I have something better." He reached into the pocket of his discarded jacket and pulled out a zip-lock bag filled with a small amount of fine white powder. "Found it my mom's room."

"Nice to know she's using your dad's insurance money wisely." Clare cracked. Marijuana was a regular thing for them since it was essentially harmless and Shane's mother always had some in the freezer. But once in a great while, Shane would stumble upon other remnants from his mother's stash; the butt-end of an eight-ball, maybe a few broken ecstasy tablets here and there. He set them aside for when Clare would come by.

Shane emptied the bag on the coffee table and began separating lines with his laminated school ID. Clare busied herself with rolling up a dollar bill, she offered it to Shane.

"No, no- ladies first." Clare rolled her eyes at his attempt at being a gentleman. She brought the forged tube up to her nostril and lowered her head to the coffee table.

Five minutes later, Clare exited Shane's house with heightened sense of awareness and a numb sensation in her mouth and throat. Shane walked out onto the porch after her.

"When are you gonna come by again?" he asked, trying to mask his sadness.

"Sooner than usual, school's out. Randall and Helen have been a bit tense around each other, so I need to avoid that." Shane gave an understanding smile, he was the only person outside of the Edwards family who knew of Clare's adoption. She had taken to referring to the born-again tyrants by their first names when in his presence. The label of 'parents' or 'mom and dad' seemed inaccurate. She continued, "Also Alli is being forced by her dad into taking a physics course, so I won't being seeing much of her this summer."

"Meaning, I'll be seeing more of you. Perfect, you know I enjoy these little sessions."

"As do I, Mr. Newman, as do I."

* * *

The optimism and good cheer that Clare and Shane had initially expressed in the summer had been diminished about half-way through. Maybe it was just the universe's way keeping her down, but Clare found herself more alone than ever after hearing the news from Shane.

"You're moving? Tomorrow? Thanks for the heads-up." Clare snapped sarcastically. She ran a hand through her newly shortened hairstyle and reached down to grab her purse off the floor.

"Where are you going?" Shane questioned.

"Home."

"You're not even going to question why I'm moving?"

"Don't care." Clare was already half-way to the basement door. Smoke still lingered in the air from their previous joint. Shane reached out and grabbed her arm in a firm hold. Clare snapped her head in his direction and took a good look at his glazed-over eyes. She relented, "What happened?"

"My mom. Apparently she owes money to some pretty dangerous people; they gave her a week to come up with the cash, we're leaving tomorrow." Clare hung her head in understanding. She didn't think of Shane as her boyfriend, or anything that could be properly defined by words, but it didn't stop the fact that she would feel more alone than ever without him around.

"Where will you go?'

"Don't know. Somewhere in the States most likely." He hesitated. "I won't be able to contact you, at least not for a little while. I'm sorry"

"I understand."

Shane took a step forward, closing the gap between them with his lips. Clare responded with equal vigor. Somehow, they back their way back onto the couch. Clare straddled his waist while his hands roamed everything inch of her body. Shane broke apart from her lips and breathed out slowly, making eye contact with a flushed and equally heated Clare. His fingers began to work their way under her short denim skirt, he slipped under the material of her underwear and began stroking her spot. Clare clenched her eyes shut and let out a shaky breath.

"Do you think we could…take the final step tonight?" Shane asked with much hesitance, his fingers never stopped moving, but once his sentence was over Clare had stopped her sensory overload and swatted his hand away from her entrance. She quickly hopped off of him and the couch, smoothing out her skirt.

"Clare?"

"Way to kill the mood, Shane."

"What do you mean? You didn't want to talk about it before doing it, just let the moment happen?" he asked manically.

"No. I didn't want it to happen at all." Clare responded.

"Why not? We're attracted to each other, we enjoy each others company, you get me like no one else!" Shane ranted. Clare could only stare coldly at him. "What? Don't tell me you're actually going through with the whole purity thing." He sneered, pointing at her ring.

"Its just an accessory, you know that." Clare reminded him.

"Then why are you being such a prude? I have condoms, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not that…I just..."

"Spit it out, Edwards."

"I don't think I can handle being that physically close to _anyone_ right now, even you."

"What do you mean right now? Are you saying last week was a better time?" Shane asked bitterly.

"No. It's never been a good time. Maybe it's a maturity thing, maybe it's because sex changes people, and I don't know if I'm ready for that." Clare said honestly. She continued. "Randall and Helen have been arguing a lot recently, not about sex, I think- but just seeing their marriage begin to deteriorate has made re-think the whole aspect of romantic relationships, they're just not what I need right now."

"What do you need right now?" Shane questioned her. Clare thought about it for a moment.

"I just need to keep my nose clean for a bit, Helen almost stumbled upon my stash yesterday when she brought laundry up to my room. What I need most right now is a little stability, and I'm not going to have that if my parents think they need to check me into rehab."

"We're planning on telling me this? Did these thoughts form before I told you I was leaving?"

"No, they just sort of popped up." Clare grabbed her purse from the floor and shrugged on a light jacket over her tank top. She turned to Shane for one last time.

"When you are finally allowed to contact me again, I hope you do. Things change." She leaned in and gave him one last, long kiss. Shane responded with a restrained fervor, balling his fists in her short curls.

"I will." Shane promised once they broke apart.

"Goodbye Shane." Clare said as she turned to make her way up the stairs. Shane remained silent, watching her figure as she passed through threshold at the top of the stairs.

"Goodbye." He called out. Shortly after he heard the front door to his house slam shut, he wasn't even sure if she had heard him.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter 3

For once in Clare's life, she almost felt normal. Despite her "parent's" recent divorce, life had never been more stable for Clare. The nightmares recounting her mother's death that plagued her for years were not nearly as frequent. She had also toned-down the Jesus act at school, and nobody really questioned it. She still wore the cross and purity ring, but her demeanor at Degrassi was much more relaxed. She had also found herself resorting drug use much less, without Shane around it just wasn't as fun. But she still found herself sneaking the occasional smoke while her house was void of parental intrusion

She never really felt sad or left-out, like she sometimes did during her freshmen year. Transitioning to public school was tough enough, but for someone with such a twisted background that had to be hidden at all costs- it was close to Hell. Successfully hidden secrets were a rare thing within the halls of Degrassi, if you had drama, the entire school was somehow aware of it. Although feelings of emotional vulnerability were rare for Clare, she knew how to act them out.

Her "emotional breakdown" in response to her parent's divorce was just an excuse to act out as "Saint Clare", to have a little fun with such a repressed character, even if it did almost destroy her relationship with Eli. Clare knew it was better to react to bad news with forged emotion, and not the stony coldness that often en-wrapped itself on her heart.

But perhaps the biggest aide in making her life normal was her relationship with Eli and the friendship of Adam. She liked spending time with both of them; they were unlike anyone else at Degrassi. The three of them were all outsiders in their own way, with Adam and Eli it was more obvious to the external world, but with Clare- it was darker side that had to be hid. She and Eli had been dating for nearly six months, she had helped him immensely in re-gaining his life and his room after the loss of his beloved Julia. And Clare did a thoroughly convincing job in making him believe she felt better about her parent's divorce, even if she had felt nothing in the first place.

Eli made her feel like she really could love, like she was capable of feelings deeper than rage. But Clare was the strong one in the relationship, Eli with all his problems depended on her to be there for him when his issues from the past acted up. He needed her a lot more than she needed him, he was essentially just another part of the mask, an accessory. Although she felt guilty assigning him that label, she knew it was true. Everybody in her life in some way helped shape her masked identity, the only one who didn't was Shane, and he was no longer in the picture.

Clare was currently lying on Eli's bed while the dark-haired boy attacked her neck with kisses and the occasional nip. She allowed herself a small moan at the feeling while rubbing her hands over his back. The intimacy they shared was nothing like what she had with Shane- things were slow-paced and enjoyable. With Shane, things were more primal; there was always desperation on both parts to get off as quickly as possible.

Clare slipped her hand's under her boyfriend's shirt, pulling the offending red uniform polo up to his shoulders. He disengaged his mouth from her neck only to rip the shirt over his head before turning his attention to her lips. His tongue massaged hers with an agonizing slowness, while his hands made quick work of removing her polo. This was relatively new territory for the couple; Eli had been taking the physical lead in the relationship with an excruciating slowness. But Clare had to respect his pace, she was "Saint Clare" in Eli's eyes- she was expected to be shy and nervous when in a vulnerable unclothed state.

Clare played the part of shy virgin the first few times, but all she could think about was what Eli was hiding under his skinny jeans. Something inside her had changed in relation to sex; her parent's divorce had actually been a healthy choice for the family. The limited interaction with the born-again parentals led Clare to deeper contemplation about the possibility of sharing herself physically with another person. She was willing to put herself out there completely for Eli, something she was never willing do with Shane.

He removed her bra and began busying himself with her breasts. He took her nipple in his lips and lightly nibbled, Clare let out a gasp.

"Is this alright?" Eli asked, pausing at her vocalization.

"More than alright." She breathed out easily. Eli smirked and went back to work on her hardened peaks, switching between nibbling and tweaking, enjoying the different noises that Clare made. Unknown to him, Clare felt more teased than satisfied. She decided to take things a bit further, grinding her hips into his obvious hardness.

Eli groaned at the sensation and moved his face up to her shoulder, burying his head in it's crook while reciprocating to Clare's gyrations with his own. He lowered his hands to her hips to bring her even closer. He bit down hard on her shoulder, a move that Clare always appreciated much to his own surprise.

Eli's teeth sinking into her skin sent her over the edge; she reached down between them and placed her hand over the front of Eli's tented khakis. Before Eli could even process what was happening, Clare began rubbing him with surprising expertise for a virgin. He removed his mouth from her shoulder and moaned at the unexpected pleasure brought on by girlfriend's forwardness.

"Fuck Clare.." he breathed out, eyes closed.

Clare took his moan as a sign of approval and paused her ministration on his crouch to undo his belt buckle. But Eli's hands quickly stopped her from doing so.

"Clare, no. We have to stop." Clare groaned in aggravation. Eli raised his eyebrow.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing." Clare said shortly. She quickly jumped of the bed and snatched her bra and shirt off the floor, redressing herself quickly.

"Clare, we've been over this- I don't want to force you to give up your beliefs."

"You're not forcing me to do anything, Eli. " _That's the problem_ Clare thought to herself. "I'm ready for this."

"You don't know that." Clare shot him a challenging look. "Look, you don't have to give up something that means so much to you just to please me." She wasn't idiot, she knew he was afraid of hurting her; sex changed his relationship with Julia and it could do the same with her. In his eyes, Clare Edwards was a porcelain doll held together by a strong moral code and religious enlightenment. He didn't want to break her, he didn't know that she was already broken. Clare sighed and tried to think of an argument, but decided to just change the topic.

"You know, there all other things we could do…" she hinted.

"Like foreplay?' Eli asked, his interest clearly aroused.

"Exactly." Clare said, forcing a blush onto her face. Eli smirked got off the bed, en-wrapping his arms around her waist kissing her forehead.

"I like the way you think, Edwards." Clare smiled widely. "But let's wait till another day, huh?" Clare's face fell in disappointment. She nodded weakly and gave him a quick kiss before muttering a good bye and walking out of his room.

Truth be told, Clare was somewhat thankful for Eli's rejection. Although she felt the urge to explore sexual intimacy, she was still somewhat torn on the matter. She had read articles about people like her; people who had suffered emotional trauma at a young age. They often shied away from physical relationships in fear of exposing themselves entirely and being rejected. The possibility of freaking out your significant other with a horrific past was what led most people like Clare to a life of solitude.

Eli was somewhat in the same situation, but he had already achieved physical intimacy before his trauma occurred. He only had to refresh his steps, Clare had conquer unknown territory.

Of course, Clare could not forget about her evenings with Shane. But while those trysts contained heavy petting and getting off, they lacked intimacy. There were no gentle caresses or flirtatious banter with Shane, his emotions ran about as deep as kiddie pool. Physically, it was like they were in sync, bringing each other to a mutual climax, but mentally they were both in a different place. They didn't gaze into each others eyes, they looked past them.

Clare sighed as she walked down the sidewalk, away from Eli's house and towards her own empty domicile. It was Helen's week to stay with Clare. She never addressed her parents by their first names vocally, only within her mind. Helen had no idea that Clare was aware of her adopted status, and there was no need for her to be informed; it would only cause problems.

To no surprise, Helen was still at work, which meant that Clare was on her own. She sat down in front of her computer and accessed her e-mail account. In another window, she opened her Facerange account, assuring that she was indeed signed-off of online chat. She had no desire to talk to anyone. Clare clicked back to her e-mail and noticed a recent message from Darcy. This was an odd occurrence, seeing as how Clare had stopped sending e-mails to Darcy months ago, she just couldn't find the interest or motivation to inquire about her work in Africa. She had grown accustomed to the older girl's absence.

She opened the message and almost threw her laptop on the floor after reading the first few sentences. Darcy had booked a flight back to Toronto next week and requested that not only Clare find her ride from the airport, but also keep in a secret from their parents. She didn't bother saying why. The remainder of the letter was somewhat confusing and ominous:

…_I also think we can take my return as a chance to talk about some incidents that occurred years ago. I can't really explain it through writing, but I've been having these odd dreams about my childhood and I think you have something to do with them. I know this makes me sound like the lunatic who had to leave Toronto in the first place, but I really need to discuss something with you in order to get closure on an important issue that has plagued me for sometime now. I hope you're not too mad about me springing this on you, little sister, but home is where I need to be right now. _

The letter ended with yet another reminder of her flight info and arrival time as well as a polite demand to be picked up at the terminal. After all, she wasn't getting paid for doing charity work in Africa, and lion's blood was not an acceptable form of cab fare, or whatever they used as currency in Kenya.

Clare typed a hasty response to her "sister", promising to meet her at the airport and keeping her return on the down low. In her mind, a multitude of plans were forming on how to best confront Darcy, without things becoming too messy.

But she couldn't shake the feeling that they would.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter 4

Saturday finally rolled around and Clare found herself yet again alone in her house. Usually, Randall stayed with her on the weekends, but he was out of town on business. Clare already knew that Eli had plans with Adam for the day, and Alli was visiting relatives. With nothing better to do, Clare decided that a little relaxation with her favorite herb was in order.

She pulled an old bible from her bookshelf and opened it to reveal a hollowed out compartment in the thick stack of paper. A bag of weed and some papers inhabited the inside. Clare pulled out the bag, but stuffed it back in when the doorbell rang. She huffed in annoyance and made her way downstairs and opened the door.

She almost fell over when she saw who was on the other side.

Shane Newman stood before her, his dark hair a bit longer than before, his face aged with a light smattering of stubble. She took a moment to take in his physical appearance- he had grown a few inches and put on some much needed muscle, but not enough to be considered "jacked".

He gave her his typical crooked grin, Clare shortened the distance between them and landed a sharp slap against his cheek before pulling him into a tight hug.

"Ow, what was that for?" He complained into her hair. Clare pulled away, but kept her hands on his shoulders.

"That was for showing up unannounced, you said you would call when you were back!"

"Yeah, but I know how you hate being surprised, so…" Shane chuckled and leaned in to try and capture her lips. Clare immediately took two steps back and motioned for him to come in the house.

"You look nice." Shane said, taking in her eyes, now devoid of glasses. "Finally decided to spring for contact lenses, Edwards?"

"Laser eye surgery." Clare explained simply.

"Ooh, cheating genetic biology!" Shane joked. "I like it, you can almost see the madness that lurks behind those baby blues…" Shane murmured softly, gazing at her in appreciation. Yet again he brought his face closer to hers, and yet, Clare backed away.

"Before you get any ideas, I think you should know- I have a boyfriend- going on six months now." Clare explained.

"That never stopped us before." Shane pointed out.

"Yeah, but Eli's different- I actually like him."

"So any hopes I have at being physical with you are shot to hell?" Shane asked without any emotion.

"Yes." She insisted. Shane pondered this for a moment before shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh well, it was worth a shot." Clare laughed at his quick recovery, grateful that he wasn't mad.

"Come upstairs, I was just about to roll a joint."

"Actually, I have something a little better." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled two brown squares wrapped in plastic.

"How special are those brownies?"

"Special enough to make you see god. Bought them off some University kid last night."

"Speaking of which, where the hell have you been and when did you get back to Toronto?"

"I can only answer your second question for now; I got back a couple days ago, mom sold our old house, so I got myself a crappy little apartment."

"Where is your mom?"

"Not with me." he said shortly, avoiding the topic. "So, we gonna go to space, or what?" Shane asked. Clare decided to ignore his lack of information, for now. She was just content with being in his company again. They quickly devoured the brownies and decided to pass the time before they kicked in with a walk outside.

It was like being hurled back into time, Shane by her side again. She wasn't sure if she missed it horribly or not. Her time with Eli and Adam had been valuable, but nobody understood her like Shane Newman. After about thirty minutes of walking, they found themselves wandering through a familiar park.

The park held much importance to both of them. It was the same park where Clare and Eli had shared their first kiss during their Shakespeare project, but long before that it had been a haven for her and Shane. Aside from Darcy's pets, Clare had also experimented with her rage on unfortunate and unattended dogs at this very park, Shane aiding in their capture. She reminded Shane of this, he chuckled.

"So many howls left unheard." He quipped.

"So many dogs left floating in the wading pool." She returned. They shared a dark chuckle.

"How you feeling?" Shane asked, turning to her. His own brown eyes were squinted and glazed over.

"It's definitely taking effect."

"Me too." Shane smacked his lips. "God, I always get the worst cotton mouth from these things. Can we stop to get a drink somewhere?"

"Sure, I know a place." She answered.

In retrospect, Clare should have thought twice before taking them in the direction of The Dot, Degrassi's premier hangout spot, besides the ravine. She didn't consider that people from school could see her with Shane, a person who they knew nothing about. It was common knowledge at Degrassi that "Saint Clare" and "Eli the hearse-driving-junior" were an item. The sight of her with an unidentified boy could arise suspicion in the gossip circles at Degrassi. But she was much too content with his presence (as well with the brownie) to think about such things.

The Dot was practically barren expect for a few occupied tables here and there. An unfamiliar girl stood behind the counter, Peter had given up his job there for one at a coffee shop closer to his campus. Shane and Clare ordered their drinks to-go and waited by the counter while the obviously new barista floundered about behind the counter. Clare and Shane watched her with amusement, occasionally making snappy comments beneath their breath to each other. They were so en-wrapped in their own form of amusement that Clare didn't even notice the two boys walking up behind her.

"Clare!" a familiar voice called out. Clare felt a sudden panic wash over her before she turned around to see Adam and Eli approaching her.

Eli took one look at his girlfriend and immediately expected that something was off. Her eyes, usually big and shining were half-closed and bloodshot, like she had been crying. But her lips, were curled up at the corners in a half-smile and her face was devoid of any tears or smudged make-up. She looked extremely content and yet nervous around his presence at the time. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was stoned, but that was not Clare's style; or so he thought.

But what was perhaps more off-putting was the presence of an unfamiliar boy, standing much too close to Clare for Eli's liking. Eli stuffed his hands into the pockets of his blazer, clenching them so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Oh hey guys, what are you up to?" Clare asked as normally as she could. As convincing as she sounded, it did not distract Eli from the stranger beside her.

"We were grabbing some coffee before doing a few things." Eli said quickly. "Who are you?" he asked Shane with a trace of hostility in his tone. Before Shane could answer, Clare did for him.

"This is Shane, an old friend from my days at Catholic School. Shane, this is my boyfriend Eli and our friend Adam." Clare explained. Shane gave them a curt nod, unable to speak at the moment given the tension of the situation and the THC in his brain. "Shane was in the neighborhood and we decided to catch-up for a bit." Clare continued.

"That's cool." Adam said, attempting to break the awkward tension radiating around the group. "Hey did you guys ever get spanked by nuns with rulers? Clare always refuses to answer that question."

Adam's funny comment helped break the mood somewhat; Eli chuckled, Clare blushed and Shane howled.

"No, they were only aloud to slap our hands really hard and make us stand in the corner, the priests- now those were some bastards you had to look out for, well only if you were a boy." Shane retorted. Eli and Adam laughed. Clare couldn't help but notice that Eli was still eying Shane with suspicion. The girl behind the counter set their drinks down before them, finally.

Clare grabbed her drink and turned to Shane, quirking her eyebrow in a silent plea to leave.

"Adam and I were just about to head to the comic book store. Care to join us?" Eli asked. He directed his question at Clare, ignoring Shane's presence for the moment.

"Thanks, but Shane and I were going to catch a movie in a bit." She lied.

"Yeah, it's called _Watching Paint Dry_." Shane quipped. Eli shot him a dark look, as did Clare.

"If I had a ruler right now, I'd hit you with it." Clare said to Shane. Adam broke into giggles over Clare's remark. Eli smirked, Clare might've been reserved for the most part, but every once in a while she could be quite the badass. But he still didn't see anything trustworthy in Shane.

"Dude, we should get going." Adam said to Eli, pointing at his watch. "The store closes at 2 pm on Saturdays." Eli turned to his girlfriend and kissed her without warning. She responded amicably while Adam groaned in disgust and Shane looked on in amusement.

"I'll call you later." He whispered. He looked over at Shane and said- "Nice meeting you." Although he said it with a face that suggested otherwise. Clare let out a sound of relief once both boys had walked out the front door.

"Well that was interesting." Shane remarked. "Do you think he knew we're stoned?"

"No, we played cool and the effects haven't really kicked in all the way yet." Clare said, trying to reassure herself more so than Shane.

"So that's your boyfriend huh? Didn't know you liked Goths." Shane said mockingly.

"He's not a Goth, Shane." Clare growled. "Damn, I really didn't expect to see him today! No doubt he's going to grill me later about this."

"Why?"

"Eli…is somewhat protective of me." She explained, thinking back to the Vegas Night fiasco with Fitz. "The only guy he fully trusts to be around me is Adam. Seeing as how you look like a serial-kill-in-training, I'm sure he felt uneasy about you."

"Hn." Shane muttered with disinterest. "Well, enough about such boring subject matters as relationships; let's do something fun."

"What'd you have in mind?" Shane only answered her with knowing smirk.

* * *

"Seriously Adam, be honest with me." Adam sighed as he lowered the latest issue of 'The Goon', and turned to his best friend.

"Dude, why would Clare lie to you? She said he was just old friend from her private school days. You know, when they were _children_." He emphasized. "Besides, this is Saint Clare we're talking about; she would never cheat on anyone, let alone you." He said seriously before pausing and smirking at him. "Adultery is a sin."

"True, but don't be so quick to judge, she isn't so saintly all the time." Eli said with a quirked eyebrow.

"Oh gross! I don't want to hear about you feeling up my other best friend, it's just wrong."

"Sorry man." Eli chuckled. "It's really not Clare I'm worried about, it's her friend. Something seemed…off about him." Eli trailed. "And did you see the way he was looking at Clare before we went over? He was practically drooling over her like a piece of meat!" he finished angrily.

"Yeah, like _you've_ never looked at Clare in that way." Adam shot back.

"That's different, she's my girlfriend. " Eli countered. "Well, I guess if he does try anything, Clare will reject him. I don't think he would force himself on her anything, dude's skinnier than me." He assured himself more so than Adam.

"So, you're good on this?" Adam asked, returning to the subject.

"I guess so, I just need to ask Clare about him to put my mind at ease."

"Uh uh, no. Don't do that. Horrible idea." Adam said, shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"Because in doing so you're basically telling Clare that you don't trust her. After all she's done for you, that's a pretty shitty thing to do to her." Adam explained. "No girl wants to be accused of being unfaithful."

Eli almost opened his mouth to ask how he would know, but decided against it. There's was no need to shed an ugly light on the pink elephant in the room that always appeared when discussing gender and sex with Adam.

"You're right. Clare would never do that to me."

* * *

"Gotcha!" Shane huffed as he tackled a stray beagle to the ground. Clare ran up behind him and bent down to clench the dogs barking mouth shut. She applied a layer of duct tape around his jaw to keep it sealed while Shane bound together the animal's feet.

Once their victim was secured, they took a step back, examining the beagle's futile effort to escape.

"So how do you want to do this?" Shane asked

"Not sure. Got anything on you?" Shane smirked and pulled out a small black object from his pocket. He pressed a side button and a gleaming blade popped out.

"Will this do? Or would you rather drown him? Easier to cover-it up."

"It's been a while since I did this." Clare admitted.

"It's like riding a bike, Clare." Shane assured her. Clare held out her hand, accepting the knife. She knelt down to the dog's level.

"Right across the neck, quick and easy." Shane reminded her.

Clare raised the knife and studied the dog's eyes, they were masked with an unmistakable emotion- terror. A hissing sound and the stench of urine confirmed it.

"No need to drag it out. Animals have no souls, no concept of time." Shane reminded her, fearing that she had grown soft in his absence.

"I know that." Clare stated. "I just like watching how hopeless they get once they realizes their fate." She explained with a small smile. Without another word, Clare brought the knife down hard and quick, dragging the blade deep into fur, flesh, and veins. Angry red spurts made their out of the wound as the dog began to shake hard and then suddenly lie still. The whole thing lasted only a few seconds.

"Nice." Shane said softly. Clare wiped the blade off on the dog's hind leg and handed it back to Shane.

"What do we do with the body?" She asked.

"Let's just untie it and toss it into the woods. We're far enough out that no one would find him. And if they ever did, who cares? It's a goddamn dog."

After they disposed of the beagle, they began to make their way back to Clare's house. Hours had passed since they had eaten the brownies, their effects now long gone. As they walked in silence, Clare busied herself with an upcoming issue- Darcy's return.

Her e-mail had been quite obvious that she intended to sit Clare down for a serious chat. Given the events that had taken place that day, Clare had her suspicions that Darcy knew that Scruffy didn't run away, as did the other rodents she owned. She initially thought about asking Eli to come with her to pick her up. After all, he was the only person she hung out with who had a car. But things could ugly with Darcy there. What if she didn't want to wait until they were alone to discuss her issue? Not to mention the fact that she had never even told Eli about Darcy's existence; it never seemed relevant in their conversations.

She couldn't let Eli find out about Scruffy, he would never look at her the same way again.

The wheels turned violently in Clare's head, formulating a solution to her predicament. She looked over at Shane, and her problem was solved.

"Got an e-mail from Darcy the other day." Clare said, breaking the silence.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. How would you feel about driving me to the airport to pick her up?"

"I could do that. Mom might not be around, but her car is." Shane said simply.

"I had something else in mind as well." Clare added.

"And what would that be?" Shane asked, his interest somewhat provoked.

"Ever see an abandoned church before?"

* * *

Next chapter: An emotional family reunion...


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: To anybody who was wondering about the last chapter; no, I do not hate dogs. Quite the opposite in fact. But killing domestic animals is a common trait seen in sociopathic youth; don't believe me? Look it up. Seeing that this is a "Sociopathic Clare" story, it made a lot of sense for her to run around killing innocent dogs. Also (in this story) her biological mother was killed by dogs; so there's a little hostility and lust for revenge on Clare's part.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Chapter 5**

Clare looked down at her cell phone anxiously during lunch. Technically, she shouldn't even have the damn thing on her person with Simpson's new rules, but Shane was supposed to arrive any minute. She was just waiting for the text that announced his arrival outside.

She was currently sitting in History class, it was the end of the period and lunch was next. They had decided to leave then, given the arrival time of Darcy's flight. But Shane still hadn't texted her. She sighed and snapped the phone shut softly, slipping it into the pocket of her khakis. Mr. Perino droned on in front, oblivious to her blatant violation of school policy.

Not two seconds later, a vibrating sensation on her leg alarmed her of a new message. She slipped the phone back out, holding it under the desk and flipping it open. She desperately hoped it wasn't Eli, asking what her plans were for lunch. He knew there was no yearbook committee today, no Jesus Club either. Clare hadn't planned on telling him that she'd be ditching the rest of the school day.

When Perino's back was turned to the class, Clare snuck a look under her desk and immediately felt as ease.

_Parked outside. Look for a dark blue SUV.- Shane_

All she had to do now was exit the building without be noticed by Adam or Eli. She smiled at her good fortune, knowing full well that both boys had classes on the second floor of the school while Clare's history classroom was located conveniently in the front hall of Degrassi.

The bell rang and Clare was one of the first students out the door. She squeezed her way past some slow moving freshmen and walked out the front door, past the security guard and metal detectors. Had this been any other time during the school day, she would've been stopped and questioned. But Simpson had made adjustments to the rules, allowing students to once again, eat lunch outside.

As promised, Shane was sitting in the front seat of a blue SUV. She hopped in the passenger seat and without any greeting or form of acknowledgment, Shane put the car in drive and pulled out. The first ten minutes of the ride was spent in silence. There was no need to say anything, they had been over the plan over and over again.

Clare's phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, noticing Eli's name lighting up the front screen. Without a second thought she hit the ignore button and turned her phone off.

The ride to the airport took half an hour, but to the two of them it felt more like five minutes. Shane pulled up on the curb outside baggage claim and put the car in park. Clare looked out her window, scanning the crowds for Darcy. Despite the fact that she hadn't seen her in over a year, Clare immediately recognized a skinny girl with long brown hair sitting atop her suitcase. She was dressed in clothes, much too light for Toronto's cold climate.

Clare stepped out of the car and walked towards her adoptive sister. Darcy remained idle, not noticing the girl who was making a beeline towards her. At first Clare thought she mus have been really spaced out, but then she remembered how much her physical appearance had changed since Darcy left. She probably didn't recognize her.

"Darcy!" Clare called out. The girl question snapped her head in Clare's direction, a look of confusion washed over her face before realizing who was calling out to her.

"Clare!" she squealed, jumping off her suitcase. She wrapped Clare in a tight hug which she returned half-heartily. "You look so different!" Shane walked up behind them and grabbed Darcy's suitcase as the sisters broke apart.

"Darcy, you remember my friend Shane from catholic school right? He's one of the few people I know with a car." Darcy shot the boy in question an uneasy look. Much like Randall and Helen, Darcy did much care for Shane; he had always been very rude to her even at such a young age. She felt a sliver of annoyance that Clare still hung out with the little freak, but brushed it off, remembering why she came back in the first place.

She wasn't here to make peace with Shane, she was here to get answers from Clare.

Shane and Darcy exchanged false pleasantries and the group piled into the SUV. Darcy sat in the front seat, at Clare's suggestion. The first few minutes of the trip passed with Darcy rambling on about her time in Africa. Unbeknown to her, Clare and Shane ignored every word. After a little while, the car fell into silence, but Clare knew her sister would not be silent for long.

"Hey where are we going? I might've been gone for a year, but I know it doesn't take more than a half-hour to get home from the airport." Darcy pointed out. "Are you lost?" she asked Shane.

"No," Shane said shaking his head, "But pretty soon, _you_ will be." Before Darcy could question his odd comment, a damp rag was forced over her nose and mouth. She struggled to breath, but was only met with a disgusting smell and taste, followed by darkness.

Clare removed the chloroform soaked rag from Darcy's mouth, keeping a firm hand on her shoulders so that her unconscious body would not fall forward onto the glove department. Shane looked back from the front seat and gave her a knowing grin, which she returned.

* * *

Darcy awoke with her face pressed against cold stone. Her blurred vision cleared to reveal what looked like ruins of a lost city; she tried to sit up from her position on the ground, but couldn't. Her arms and legs were bound together by rope. Panic raced through her veins.

"Oh good, you're awake." Clare's voice came from behind her. She tried to roll over, but it was impossible. She felt a rough hand on her shoulder and that turned her body onto her back, looking up at the darkening sky.

Darcy tried to scream at her sister, but realized for the first time that she couldn't. A piece of duct tape prohibited her from making any sounds other than muffled noises. She looked up at her sister with angry eyes.

"Sorry Darce, I can't take the tape off, we don't have as much time as I thought we would. It's already starting to get dark." She explained, motioning to the sky above. "So let's just cut to the chase. I assume what brought you back here were odd dreams. Dreams about, Scruffy. Am I right?" Clare asked. "One blink for yes, two for no."

Darcy blinked once, a tear escaping her eye.

"Well, there's no sense in dragging this out into some dramatic confession." Clare pulled out a blue object from her pocket and held it front of Darcy's face. The older girl began to sob at the sight of her beloved Scruffy's collar.

"Yes, Darcy, I killed him." she admitted. "Strangled him with his own leash, to be more specific. And as for the rabbit and hamster that you later owned, well they didn't exactly run away either."

Darcy tried to scream, but Shane silenced her with a slap to the face. He pulled out a plastic bag and began to place it over Darcy's head. Clare reached out to stop him.

"I think we should give her the opportunity for last words." Clare said. Shane pulled the bag back and stood up.

"You're the boss." He said. Clare reached down and tore the tape from her sister's mouth. Darcy let out a high-pitched scream, followed by sobs.

"You bitch! You fuckin' little psycho bitch! I always knew you had something to do with Scruffy's disappearance. You hated that dog, you were jealous of me. You've always been jealous of me." Darcy rambled through her tears.

"Bitch, please. Don't flatter yourself." Clare said with humor in her voice. Darcy was a bit taken back, the Clare she left behind never swore.

" You're the reason everything in my life went to hell. After losing three animals in a row, how did you think I felt? I felt worst than a failure! It destroyed by self-confidence and lead me down the wrong path!" Darcy accused.

"Yes, a path full of pedophiles and date rape!" Clare quipped. Shane laughed.

"Because of you I began to question everything I believed in! You're the reason I acted out, you're the reason I rebelled against mom and dad and went on that ski trip. You're the reason I got raped and you're the reason I tried to kill myself!" Darcy sobbed. Tears were pouring out of her eyes in both terror and anger. "If Scruffy had never died, if mom and dad had never adopted you, we'd all be much better off!" The elephant in the room had been spotted; Darcy hadn't brought up her adoption since they were younger.

"Those are pretty big 'ifs', Darce." Clare said with no emotion.

"How in the hell did you hide this from me, from mom and dad?" Darcy asked through tears.

"I didn't. Dad walked in on me during Scruffy's final whimpers of pain." Darcy let out a wet sob. "And do you know what he did, Darcy?" Clare asked. She bent down to her knees and whispered directly into her ear:

"He helped me hide the body." Darcy tried to scream, but found her voice once again muffled by duct tape. Clare lowered her face to Darcy's ear and continued, "After that, he cut up the leash to make it look like a dog had chewed through it, before lying to you that Scruffy 'ran away'. Now as for your other little pets, well, that was all on my own. Randall didn't even bother questioning me about them. Deep down, he knew it was me. And guess what Darcy- he did nothing to stop me!" Clare whispered into her ear. Darcy's muffled screams became louder, more ragged.

"Okay, she knows the truth now. Time to make sure she never breaths a word of this to anyone." She said to Shane.

"She's your fake sister; would you like to do the honors?" Shane asked, holding out the plastic bag.

"Yeah, it wouldn't feel right watching someone else do it." Clare grabbed the bag and dropped back down to Darcy. She pulled the bag over her struggling head, and smoothed it over her face, making sure no air was left. She gripped the base of the bag tightly, circling the older girl's neck.

Darcy's face contorted beneath the transparent surface. Her eyes bugged out and her cheeks flushed as she tried, without success, to breathe through her nose. Her body was writhing on the cold stone of the abandoned church floor. Moments passed, and so did Darcy's life.

Shane examined Clare as she detached herself from Darcy's corpse. Her expression was unreadable, not at all like it was after they killed a dog. Usually after they put some unsuspecting mutt out of his misery, Clare looked like Christmas came early. He shrugged off the thought.

"Okay, let's bury this bitch and get out of here." Clare nodded in agreement. Having premeditated the plans for that day, they had already prepared a grave earlier in the week, set back in the woods that surrounded the abandoned church. Clare remembered a time when the location was safe haven from home, a spot for her and Eli to connect. Now, she didn't think she could return without replaying Darcy's death over and over again in her head.

While Shane got the shovels out of the trunk, Clare took one last look at the girl she had called a sister. The golden cross necklace that she had received around the same time that Clare got hers was still there. Without thinking twice, Clare unhooked it from around her neck and stuffed it the pocket of her denim jacket before Shane could see.

Shane drove her home once Darcy was hidden. The car was empty of any evidence of her return; they had decided to bury her luggage with her so it wouldn't be found by anyone else.

Shane turned onto Clare's street and she immediately panicked at the sight of a familiar black hearse parked in front of her house.

"Drop me off here."

"Why?" Shane asked as he stopped the car.

"Eli's car is at my house, and I don't want him to see that I was with you." Clare explained. Shane peered down the road at the car in front of Clare's place.

"He drives a hearse? Are sure he's not a goth?" he asked smugly.

"Shut up." Clare said as she hopped out. "I'll see you later, and thanks."

"You don't have to thank me for anything, it was an absolute delight." Shane answered with a grin. Clare gave him a half-smile before he drove off. She began to slowly make her way down the block, pulling out her cellphone and turning it back on.

The screen lit up, displaying the words_- Six new texts, three missed calls_. All of them were from Eli. Clare cursed silently as she read them.

_Hey where are you?_

_English is about to start, and your pretty face is still missing._

_Way to ditch English without telling me._

_Seriously, what's wrong, I'm getting worried._

_I'm coming over._

_Where the hell are you? I'm at your house._

By the time she had read the last message, she was passing Eli's hearse. The boy inside spotted her and jumped out.

"Where have you been!" his voice sounded worried, but nonetheless angry. He walked around the car towards Clare. Much to her relief, he pulled her into a tight hug, meaning he was more worried than he was angry. Clare let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm so sorry I didn't get any of your messages, my phone died." _As did my sister_, she thought to herself. Eli pulled back in looked into her eyes.

"It's alright, I'm just glad you're safe." He breathed. "Where were you anyway? Adam and I scoured the entire school for you during lunch." Clare paused, she hadn't considered what she'd tell Eli, her lying skills were about to be put to the test. She sighed huffily, getting into character.

"It was so stupid, really. My mom forget to remind me about a dentist appointment, so I show up late- wait for an extra hour before he can see me, and when I finally do get out; the bus across town had already left. So I had to wait another forty minutes until the next one." Clare lied.

"You could've just called me. I don't mind driving across town for you." Eli said.

"My phone died, remember? And good luck trying to find a working payphone in this day and age." Clare explained. Eli let out a sigh of relief which Clare mirrored in her head. He had bought it.

"Well, despite the annoyances you had to put up with, I'm glad you're alright." He pulled her into his arms again, lowering his face to hers in a heated kiss. Clare responded eagerly, completely forgetting that they were standing on a public sidewalk.

"When will your mom be home?" Eli asked, pulling his face back from hers.

"Not for another two hours, let's take this inside." Clare murmured, claiming his lips again.

* * *

Eli left shortly before Helen returned from work. Clare reached under bed and pulled out a polished wooden jewelry box. She opened it to reveal a plethora of old dog collars, some of them containing ID tags, some without. She placed Scruffy's collar back into the box along with Darcy's necklace and returned it to its hiding place.

She had taken a life, a human life; not some abandoned or lost animal but a living, breathing person with emotions and dreams. It wasn't that Clare hated her sister, she had never thought about killing her until last week. But she had secrets to keep and lies to conceal; the promise she made to Randall all those years ago was still in place. It probably would forever.

There were times when she considered telling Eli the truth about her past. There was no need to tell him about the senseless killing, of course; but Clare felt somewhat guilty about hiding it from him. Eli had been so great about sharing his secrets, they didn't threaten their relationship, they made it stronger.

Clare's secrets, on the other hand, could not only shatter her relationship with Eli, they could land her in prison or even worse- a mental institution.

Technically, she wasn't lying to him about anything. She was, as her father put it, "withholding information." Eli had done this as well in the beginning of their relationship, but Clare had no intention of following his example of coming clean.

* * *

A/N: I've noticed this fic hasn't received many reviews, but that's understandable in my book; I normally ignore the pleas of other fic writers to post reviews, who has the time anymore? The only thing that prompts me to review a fic is if it's really really good and the author in question threatens to give-up. I'm not going to that, most of this story is already written and I have noticed that quite a few ppl have this fic on Story Alert. Thank you for that.

But if you have the time in your demanding schedule, drop me a review. I'd love to know what you think...


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Chapter 6**

Two weeks had passed since Darcy's unknown death, two weeks had also passed since the last time Clare had spoke to Shane. She had ignored his calls and texts for various reasons. One being she was running out of excuses to explain her absence to Eli; she couldn't use the dentist excuse for at least another six months. She was also afraid of giving into temptation and possibly cheating on Eli with Shane, someone who was willing to go as far as her.

But perhaps the biggest reason for her avoidance of Shane was his part in Darcy's murder.

Darcy's death struck her differently than Scruffy's. Killing the dog had been completely different from killing the dog owner. Killing Scruffy had been exhilarating, freeing; a spiritual revelation. Killing Darcy felt more like a chore, something she had to do in order to keep her secret hidden. Clare felt the tiniest sting of regret deep in her heart when Darcy's form went limp on the stone floor of the old abandoned church. Thankfully, that sting had yet to reappear.

Sure, she could've made a deal with Darcy, made a secret pact like the ones in place with Randall. But Darcy had a big mouth and her emotions were about as a stable as an active volcano. In the end, she knew she made the right choice by getting rid of her adoptive sister. Nothing stayed buried forever, but hopefully Darcy would.

She was currently on a date with Eli, well technically the end of one; they had attended a small concert put on by Bullfrog's radio station. The concert started at eight, but ran all night. Eli both surprised and delighted Clare by suggesting that they head back to his house for the night, seeing as how his parents would be at the show till it ended at 4 am.

It wasn't the first time Clare had spent the night at Eli's house, she had stayed over on several occasions after his room was properly cleared of excessive clutter. But they had never done anything that went beyond making out and spooning. But tonight, Clare had a feeling that they'd be doing more than that. They had yet to have sex, but Eli had recently made good on his promise to try out foreplay, something Clare was grateful for. Even the "unsaintly" side of her hated to be a slave to horniness.

There were times when she was with Eli that she felt her mask slipping, metaphorically. The disguise of shy and innocent Clare would fade away into a girl with lustful eyes and aggressive hands; her primal instincts would pour out like water from a broken dam. It was something Clare could not keep herself from holding back, not that Eli seemed to mind. Although he still refused to go all the way, she knew that her episodes of sensual confidence when they were intimate never failed to leave both of them breathless and craving more.

They were currently driving down the darkened streets of Toronto, towards Eli's house. Despite Morty's roomy front seat, Eli had pulled Clare close to him, draping an arm around her shoulder in affection. Clare was currently peppering the side of neck with small bites and rubbing his thigh with intent to go farther.

Eli moaned out loud against the soft heavy metal music coming from the speakers. He rubbed Clare's shoulder in approval but couldn't stop himself from saying-

"Clare, please stop. I don't want to have to explain another pair of stained pants when Cece does the laundry." He pleaded. Clare disengaged her mouth from his neck and gave him a wicked smirk.

"Just be a big boy and do your own laundry."

"I can't do that, Clare. That woman has got laundry down to an art form! Have you seen how dark and crisp my clothes stay despite numerous washings?" he joked. Clare laughed and removed her hand from his thigh, Eli still kept a tight arm around her.

"There, feel better?" Clare asked. "Less…explosive?"

"Around you? That's impossible." He smiled. "But yes, thank you. I think I can manage." Clare looked down at his lap.

"You're still hard." She smirked. Eli felt a rare blush form on his cheeks. He couldn't help but notice how confident Clare was when they got intimate lately. At first, she was a bit shy leading into anything physical, it always took a few minutes to get ease her nervousness before she got into the flow of things. Oddly enough, Clare didn't seem nervous at all the first time he went down her, just last week. She was quite the opposite in fact, Eli thought back to that night with a smirk.

"Well I guess you'll have to do something about that once Morty is properly parked." Eli fired back with a smirk of his own. Clare didn't blush, but rather raised her eyebrows in interest.

As soon as Morty was parked safely in the driveway, Clare was unzipping his pants and pulling them down. Eli barely had time to remove the keys from the ignition before aiding his girlfriend in the removal of his skinny jeans and boxers. Clare took his member in her hand and began stroking him. His head fell back against his headrest, eyes shut in concentration and pleasure.

He didn't have time to be surprised by how forward Clare was being, not that he minded at all. He had meant for his previous comment to be a joke, but Clare had taken it on as a challenge. The thought was such a turn-on, Eli had to work extra hard on his part to keep from cumming too early. He didn't want Clare to think she had _that_ much power over him.

Eli's eyes rolled into the back of his head at the new sensation of wetness and warmth around his cock. He snapped his head back from his resting position and looked to see the back of Clare's head hovering over his lap. His eyes widened in shock; despite his male urges, Eli couldn't bring himself to ask Clare to do something so dirty with her mouth. Clare was a "nice girl" as is mother once said, and nice girls don't give blow jobs, especially in the front seat of a goddamn hearse!

But Clare didn't seem hesitant or grossed out at all; she continued her oral teasing, occasionally letting her teeth graze his sensitive flesh for the briefest of seconds. He couldn't keep himself from winding his fist into her soft curls.

"Oh fuck!" he groaned aloud.

Clare took more and more of him into her mouth, running her tongue along the underside of his shaft. Eli moaned her name loudly. She pulled her head up slightly, and focused her attention on the very head, stabbing at the slit with her tongue while stroking the rest of him with her hand.

"Clare-" Eli breathed out harshly. "Clare, I'm about to- I'm about to-" Clare removed her head from his lap and looked at his face while still stroking him rapidly. His eyes snapped shut as his mouth opened widely to let out a groan. He released all over Clare's hand and Morty's steering wheel.

Clare smirked at her panting boyfriend before pulling a tissue out of her purse and wiping off her hand.

"That was incredible! I didn't actually think you'd start as soon as we were parked." Eli panted. "And I definitely didn't expect you to use your mouth!"

"Yeah, but aren't glad I did?" she grinned. Eli smirked.

"Hell yes. I'd never pin you as the type of girl to give head in a hearse, but I am nonetheless very turned on by it." He admitted. "Now, let's go inside and think of a way for me to reciprocate." He hinted while moving a hand up her thin dress. Clare was the only girl he knew who could pull off wearing floral print to a rock concert.

"How could _you_ ever manage to reciprocate what I just gave you in pleasure?" Clare asked mockingly.

"Is that a challenge, Edwards?" Clare only smirked before placing a chaste kiss on his lips and climbing out of her side of the car. He watched for a moment as she sauntered up to his house, his eyes focused on the gentle sway of her hips. Eli quickly exited the car, and dashed after her.

* * *

_Clare sat in puddle of blood as she watched two men beat the woman in front of her with brute force. She screamed at them to stop, and almost let out a victorious howl when they did. But then the barking started, and the unknown woman was surrounded by dogs._

_The woman looked over at Clare and said in a shaking, but comforting voice:_

"_Just look away. Just look away, Maya, just look away."_

_Clare only responded by screaming, not words, but anger and fear. She tried to scramble her away over the woman to kick the beasts away, but a strong pair of hands had her in place. Not that it mattered, the dogs had already begun their attack._

"_Don't look Maya!" the woman screamed as the dogs begun tearing at her flesh. She howled in pain and tried to beat them off, but she was easily outmatched. She looked over at Clare, who still had not listened to her orders to look away._

"_Mommy loves you. Just remember that. I love you, Maya." She whispered through the pain. She opened her mouth to say more, but was interrupted by a dog lunging at her throat and let out a final scream. The dog reared away, turning his frantic jaw on the rest of her body._

_Clare looked at the woman as her eyes began to close in defeat. The foul mutt had taken a large chomp out of her neck. She fell forward to the ground, dead, while the dogs continued to tear at her lifeless body._

_Clare covered her eyes with her hands and screamed. The high volume of her yell distracted the dogs from the dead woman, and they began to run towards Clare. Their mouths open and dripping with blood and saliva. As they came closer to her, Clare could begin to feel the hot breath from their pants, barking rang in her ears and terror coursed through her veins…_

"Clare!" Eli yelled, trying to wake his girlfriend from her uneasy slumber.

"No!" Clare screamed as she jolted awake and into a sitting position. Eli immediately made a move to wrap his arms around her trembling shoulders, but Clare quickly pushed him off and ran into the bathroom connected to his room.

She barely reached the toilet in time as her vomiting commenced. She could feel hot tears running down her cheeks as the contents of her stomach splashed against the porcelain bowl. Once she was finished, she flushed the toilet and went over to the sink. She rinsed out her mouth and splashed water onto her sweaty, tear-stained face.

The large t-shirt that Eli had lent to her to sleep in was sticking to her back with cold sweat. Clare bent over the sink and closed her eyes, thinking back to her dream. The woman was undoubtedly her mother, she knew that. She had the dream plenty of times before. But this was first time her mother had acknowledged her, spoke to her. But who was Maya? Was she speaking really speaking to her? Or was this Maya person standing behind her? What if _she_ was Maya?

A loud knocking on the bathroom door distracted Clare from her thoughts. She hadn't even realized she had slammed in behind her in the first place.

"Clare, are you alright?" Eli asked from behind the door.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine." Clare said in what she hoped was a reassuring voice. She opened the door to find a concerned-looking Eli standing on the other side, wearing only the boxers that she had taken off of him several hours ago.

"Come here." Eli wrapped his arms around her. Clare burrowed her head in his chest, not wanting to look him in the eyes. "What was that? Bad dream?"

"Yeah." Clare muttered softly.

"Bad enough to make you sick? Or was that because dinner sucked?" Eli asked with a trace of humor. Clare let out a light laugh against his chest. The concession stand at the concert had been rather dismal.

"No, it was the dream." Clare admitted.

"Do you…want to tell me about it?" Eli asked. He pulled away a bit, looking down at her.

"Honestly, no." Clare could tell that Eli was disappointed with her answer; she just hoped he wouldn't try to pry it out of her. "Not right now, anyway." She added. Yet another lie.

"Okay." He said softly, pulling her back to an embrace.

"Let's go back to bed."

Eli followed Clare's suggestion silently, hoisting her up by the back of her naked thighs. Clare wrapped her arms around his shoulder more tightly, wrapping her legs around his waist. He gave her the smallest of smirks as he walked them over to his bed, laying her down gently before cuddling up beside her.

Eli was asleep within minutes, but Clare remained awake for the rest of the night. She knew from experience that the dream never occurred only once a night, but multiple times. After years of trying to fight it, Clare felt it made more sense to just avoid sleep on nights when "the dream" occurred.

* * *

Clare left the next morning, once Bullfrog and Cece were home and in bed, at Eli's suggestion. He didn't want to put her through an uncomfortable run-in with his embarrassing parents. It was something that had happened in the past, regrettably. But after the night that Clare had- a spectrum of physical pleasure and terrifying night visions; Eli thought she had experienced enough stimulation for one day.

She left in a bit of hurry, like she was no longer comfortable in his presence; a result of what he assumed was a lack of sleep and whatever horrifying dream she had the night before. Or at least he hoped.

As much as he wanted to press her on the contents of her dream, he resisted. It looked like she was about to break down in tears, and he hated to see her cry. Whatever she saw had to have been bad. No one jolts awake in the middle of the night, covered in a cold sweat with bile rising in their throat from a petty stress dream about missing the bus or showing up at school naked.

No, Clare's dream wasn't a coincidence. There was obviously something bothering her in her own subconscious. Something she was keeping from him. Despite the upsetting thought, Eli understood Clare's hesitance to share details on something as intimate as a dream.

When Julia died, Eli had been plagued by nightmares for months. Nightmares recounting what the accident probably looked like; Eli hadn't been at the scene of the crash, something he was thankful for. Just receiving the phone call about her death was enough to shatter his spirit. Seeing her death would've probably destroyed him. He would dream about Julia's body slamming against the windshield and spiraling over the top of the car. Her head smashing onto the pavement and skidding from the force, leaving a trail of blood and skin in the wake of her lifeless body.

For now, Eli would hold off on the interrogation. But he didn't plan on staying quiet forever, it just wasn't in his character.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This chapter is mostly filler, but essential filler nonetheless.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Chapter 7**

Clare continued to ignore Shane's attempts at contacting her until he finally gave up after another week of unanswered calls. With little surprise to herself, Clare felt no guilt in ignoring her closest friend. Part of her was still mad at him for leaving in the first place, and not bothering to fill her in on what happened during his absence.

"Clare?" Helen called out to her distracted daughter.

"Yeah?" Clare asked, not bothering to tear her eyes away from the TV, not that she was following anyway.

"Have you heard from your sister lately?" her stomach dropped. "I sent her an e-mail a week and a half ago, and she still has yet to reply."

"I haven't heard from her recently, but I'm sure she's just busy. Probably didn't have to time to get on the computer." The charity that Darcy worked for in Africa owned only one computer for volunteers to use. Apparently wi-fi had yet to catch on in Kenya.

"Well I guess if I don't hear back in another week I'll just call the charity and ask if she's alright, just in case. Thanks dear." Helen walked off and Clare breathed a silent sigh of relief. She turned her attention back to whatever crappy reality show was currently on. Her momentary lapse into panic had passed quickly. She knew that people, namely her parents, would notice that Darcy was missing. And she was prepared to cover her guilt by any means necessary.

She had already deleted the most recent e-mails between her and Darcy in her own account as well as Darcy's. Thankfully, Darcy was not that creative in making up passwords, still using the same one from her first e-mail account: "scruffy". She also intercepted Darcy's most recent bank statement in the mail so her parents wouldn't see that she had recently purchased plane tickets. For some reason, she wasn't worried about someone stumbling upon her body; the grave they dug was quite deep and the abandoned church was inconspicuous location.

"Well, I'm heading off to the church fundraiser. Don't wait up!" Helen yelled as she walked out the door. Clare rolled her eyes, knowing that she was actually attending some sad "forty and over" singles mixer at the community center.

Not two minutes after Helen walked out the door did a loud knocking distract Clare once again from her self-reflection in front of the blaring TV. She stood up in annoyance and confusion, knowing full well that Eli was with Adam for "Guy's Night". What she saw on the other side of the door only annoyed her more.

"Hey stranger." Shane smirked.

"What are you doing here?" she asked with no emotion.

"Well since somebody's been ignoring my phone calls, I only thought it was worthwhile to pay a visit. I waited outside until your mom left."

"Stalker." She accused

"Murderer." Shane fired back. Clare bit her lip and eyed him with suspicion before silently waving him in.

"So, what gives? I come back after so many months only to be used as an accessory to murder and tossed aside?" Shane asked. Clare remained silent, opting instead to sit down on the couch and stare at the TV.

"You know, in the past, I never minded when you used me," Shane started. Clare jerked her head back to his attention. "It was fun, truth be told, having such a pretty girl use me let out all her…" he paused, trying to think of the right words, "…sexual frustration." He finished with a smirk.

"We never had sex." Clare said plainly.

"But we came pretty damn close to it." He sneered.

"Where are you going with this, Newman?" her temper was growing short.

"Well Clare, it's simple- I'm blackmailing you."

"You're blackmailing me?" she asked with skepticism. Shane might be bright for a kid who continually failed at formal education, but Clare was worthy of the label- "genius".

"If you don't start acknowledging my existence again, I will spill the beans about what really happened to Darcy." He smirked. "Do your parents know she's missing?" Clare shook her head and hoisted herself off the couch, staring him down.

"One, you sound like a crazy, pathetic loser when you talk like that. Two, you're just as involved as me in Darcy's death." Clare pointed out. Shane's face fell. "Now what, genius?" Clare finished with a victorious grin.

Shane opened his mouth to speak and closed it in a stupor. He grinded his teeth in frustration and thought before his face suddenly lightened with another smirk.

"How about this then? If you don't agree to hang out with me, as friends, like we always were- one day a week; then I will tell your goth boyfriend about our little affair while you dating what-his-face!"

"KC."

"KC! I will tell him about that _and _how you're continuing on with tradition." He finished, grinning wildly.

"He'd never believe you."

"I'm a very convincing liar, Clare. You know that."

Clare was dumbstruck. It didn't matter if Clare was faithful to Eli, once he heard about her real past with Shane; it was all over. You can't trust someone who cheats or once cheated. And you can't trust someone who keeps it a secret (along with many other things). Clare had no other option.

"Fine, you got yourself a deal. I will hang out with you, every Wednesday." She promised with regret.

"Excellent." He smiled

"Just one thing," she said, "Where's your mother and where were you all these months?"

"Ugh, I'd knew you'd start to bug about that eventually." Shane groaned. "Well to make a long story short, mom somehow fell into bad graces with dome pretty powerful people in the Toronto drug scene. She had to skip town to avoid being killed, so we went back to Brooklyn for a bit, crashed with some of Dad's relatives." Shane explained.

"Okay, well that explains where you've been but where is your mom now? I know you prefer it, but why are you stuck living alone at age fifteen?" Clare pressed on.

"Because Brooklyn isn't that far from Toronto and someone tipped off the people who were after her." Shane smirked. Clare didn't need to press him any farther. It was evident that he had turned in his own mother.

"What'd you get out of it?"

"A handsome reward and a job offer," Shane explained. "Which I took, I got rent to pay"

"A job doing what exactly?"

"Deliveries." Shane said simply.

"So, no more rifling through mommy's party favors for a cheap buzz?" Clare said plainly.

"Hey if you're looking for a hook-up, I got you, no charge." Shane assured. "Whatever you're looking for, I can guarantee it."

"Aside from the occasional joint, I'm not really into that scene anymore." She said plainly. Drugs had lost their appeal to her.

"Your loss." He shrugged. "So we have a deal then? I get my best friend back once a week, and she gets to keep her secrets." He grinned.

"Yeah," Clare sighed. "We got a deal."

* * *

As it turned out, Shane made good on his promise regarding their time together. He refrained from making flirty comments or sneaky moves with his hands. Clare somewhat enjoyed having him back, he was a nice break from the constant charade of Saint Clare. Although she did truly like Eli, Clare needed a break from him once in a while. In her own observations, she could see that Eli was greatly damaged by his ex-girlfriend's death; the hoarding, the secret keeping- it was how he dealt. Regardless, Clare was on a totally different level in the emotional trauma department; a level that couldn't even be explained to Eli. There were no pamphlets on how to deal with seeing your mother torn physically torn to pieces, there were no reality shows that focused on people with no conscience, and nobody had ever written self-help book for people who liked killing dogs.

In retrospect, Eli came off as a little bit whiny. There were times when his emotions got the best of him resulting in a fake stabbing for instance. Clare was right when she told them they were total opposites: Eli struggled to keep his emotions in control while Clare strived to act out the appropriate emotion. Shane was exactly like Clare in this area, which was another reason why she could never be with him.

_Opposites attract._

Eli was drawn to her for a reason- her innocence, her naivety. No matter how many times Clare contemplated telling Eli of her true origins, she always came to the same conclusion. Showing him the real her would only drive him away, she was sure of it.

But for the past week, one thing had remained dormant in the back of her mind; the recurrence of the horrible dream at Eli's house. Who was Maya? Clare couldn't but shake the suspicion that it was her. There was only one way to find out; talk to the person who knew the most about her past life; Randall.

"Hey Dad, can I ask you something?" Clare called out to her father. Randall looked up from his newspaper at his youngest daughter.

"Sure Clare-Bear, what's on your mind?" Clare took a deep breath, knowing that he would be hesitant to answer her question; he hated discussing the fact that she wasn't really his blood.

"Did you and mom…change my name after you adopted me?" Randall clenched his jaw.

"Why would you think that?"

"I had that the dream again, the one about my biological mother. I've been having it for years, but this time something was different. The woman, my mother, she called me 'Maya'." She admitted. Randall cursed this new revelation, no matter how hard he tried to cover the truth, it always managed to pop back up. Clare noticed the flash of guilt in eyes and pressed on.

"Why do you think she would call me that, _dad_?" she said the last word with as much sarcasm as she could muster.

"Don't make me say it, Clare." Randall whispered.

"Say what, _pop_?" Her eyes fogged over with a dangerous look, one that Randall hadn't seen since 'the Scruffy situation.'

"Don't. Make. Me. Say. It." Randall punctuated each word in a soft assertion. He hated having to talk, acknowledge, or even think about how Clare came into their family; it brought back too many memories. The miscarriage, the blood, the hospital.

The ironic baby shower that took place the night before.

And then there were the problems that came _after_ Clare: keeping secrets from his wife, Darcy's breakdown, his own inner-battle with faith. But most importantly, there was Clare (_Maya?_) herself; a wolf in sheep's clothing, a thorn covered rose, an ingénue who was better labeled as a femme fatale.

"Randall, just be honest with me." Clare's demand broke through his thoughts. She had never called him by his given name to his face.

"Clare- I-" he began, but he couldn't form the words to say. He didn't know whether to tell her the truth to leave her in the dark, again.

"Please, just-" Clare's words were interrupted by a the front door opening and slamming shut, followed by hurried footsteps.

"Clare? Clare! Randall? Is anyone home?" Helen's voice called out frantically. Randall silently thanked his ex-wife's disregard for knocking.

"Helen? What's going on?" Randall asked politely, although he was thankful for the interruption, he was still annoyed by her sudden appearance. They had gotten divorced for a reason, after all.

"It's Darcy!" Helen sobbed. "I called the Charity in Kenya and they told me that Darcy wasn't there anymore!" Clare did her best to look shocked.

"What?" Randall asked. He had jumped from an emotional confrontation to a full-on family crisis. Helen choked back a sob.

"I hadn't heard from her in weeks, despite numerous e-mails, so I made a long distance call to Africa." Helen explained. "Randall, they told me she left the charity weeks ago; handed in her resignation, packed her things and left!" She wiped her nose with a tissue and shot her ex-husband an observant look, "Did you know anything about this?"

"No- I haven't heard from Darcy in months." He reassured her, he turned to his other daughter, "do you know anything about this?"

"No." Clare said somberly. Randall eyed her, as if trying to see through her words and into her mind, but it was no use. Clare had a metaphorical wall built around her made-up emotions.

"Do you know where she could've gone? Do you think she's still in Africa?" Helen rambled  
"I don't know, I guess we could check out her bank statements, see if she bought plane tickets." Randall contemplated; "Where else would she go besides home?" he questioned himself.

Clare watched as her parents began to scour the house and Randall's computer for any of Darcy's recent financial transactions. Despite the chaos that was currently unfolding in front of her, she made it a point to reassure herself that Darcy's real location would never be found. Part of her felt idiotic, she had been so wrapped up with her own demons that she almost forgot about Darcy, again.

* * *

**A/N: Like I said, this chapter was mostly filler, I admit it. But what would you all say to a little smut in the next installment? I think so...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**A/N: For all you perverts out there, this chapter has a little dash of eclare smut. After all, most people want to read 'M' rated fics for a reason…**

**Chapter 8**

While her adoptive parents reunited over scrambling through old credit card bills, Clare took the opportunity to step out for a while. Eli had texted her earlier, letting her know that Cece and Bullfrog were out for the night. His open invitation had been ignored until Helen came bursting in with bad news; Clare quickly shot him text, letting him know of her impending arrival.

Not half a block away from her house, her phone started to vibrate. Eli's name flashed on the screen.

"Hey." Clare answered sweetly.

"Hey, yourself. I thought you were ignoring me. You sure know how to make a guy feel wanted, Edwards." Eli joked.

"Sorry about that, didn't have my phone on me." She lied. No need to tell him about the crisis currently going on at Casa del Edwards; she had never even mentioned Darcy's existence to Eli.

"Well… I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you."

"I'm so grateful." Clare said with sarcasm. Eli laughed on the other end of the line. "I'll see you soon."

"Where are you right now? I can pick you up." He offered.

"I know you can't wait to see me, but save your gas money, I'm already half-way there." She said playfully. They said goodbye and hung up. In truth, Clare still had a healthy distance to scour before reaching Eli's place; but the crisp evening air soothed her nerves.

There was no way Randall and Helen would give up on their search for Darcy easily. While Clare was able to intercept Darcy's credit card bills and bank statements, she knew Randall could easily access that information online or with a simple phone call. They would obviously see that she had purchased plane tickets, but would they be able to find out where she went? Or was that information kept secret?

Then again, if they did find out that Darcy returned to Toronto, there was no evidence of her ever contacting Clare. She had deleted those e-mails a while ago, and Darcy didn't have a cell phone in Africa. As long as she showed no suspicious behavior and kept Shane happy- she was in the clear.

When she finally he reached Eli's house, he was already waiting for her on the front steps. Despite the cool night air, he had decided to forgo a jacket leaving him only in a black v-neck and his trademark skinny jeans.

"Get lost?" he smirked.

"So, I miscalculated the distance a little bit; were you that eager to see me?" Clare said jokingly.

"Do you really have to ask me that?" Eli asked with a knowing smile. Clare returned it, feeling thankful that had someone like Eli in her life, someone to escape to. Despite his clinginess at times, Clare found his infatuation with her very endearing.

She reached out and stroked his arm.

"You're freezing." She pointed out.

"Then come warm me up." Eli shot back with a smirk. He wrapped an arm around her waist and led her inside.

* * *

A low moan escaped her throat as Eli rubbed her through her underwear, the only item of clothing still on her body at the time. Eli himself was shirtless, harboring an erection that threatened to poke a hole through his dark pants.

"I love it when you make that sound." He growled into her ear. Clare grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him down roughly to her lips. Eli complied willingly, kissing her with a force that Clare had only previously experienced with Shane. She wondered if it was possible for lips to bruise, but quickly cast that thought aside when she felt Eli removing her panties. She ripped her mouth away from Eli's.

"Well this is a bit unfair isn't it?" Clare asked jokingly while tugging at the waistband of his jeans.

"We'll cross that bridge in a bit; right now the only thing I want is to hear you scream." Eli said forcefully. Clare was a bit taken back by how forward he was being, but shrugged it off. It had been getting boring, being the aggressive one when things got physical. She welcomed Eli's assertiveness with open arms (and legs).

Without missing a beat, Eli lowered his face to her center, lapping at the juices that were already flowing. He inserted two fingers into her entrance, pumping them in a brutal slowness while sucking on her clit.

"Ooh Eli- yes. Don't stop!" she moaned. Eli brought her legs up over his shoulders to get a little more room. His fingers continued their ministrations, occasionally hitting a certain spot within her that left her nerves shaking.

"Ah! Oh! Fuck, Eli!" Eli smirked to himself, he loved the fact that he could get "Saint Clare" to curse while doing the most un-saintly things to her body. He reached up with his other hand and squeezed her breast, making sure to pinch and pull at her nipples which she seemed to always enjoy.

_Little masochist_, Eli thought to himself while continuing his ministrations on her writhing body. He could tell by her labored breathing that she was close to edge. He flicked his tongue over clit with incredible speed, causing her walls to clench around his finger; her entire body began to shake and her fists balled up in his dark bed sheets.

"Ahhh, oh my god! Eli!" she moaned, Eli pulled his mouth away, but continued pumping his finger out of her tight core, helping her descent back to earth. Her back, which had been arched, plopped down back to the bed. She rolled over onto her stomach, trying to catch her breath and brushed her sweaty bangs from her face. It was times like this when she wished she could be more open with Eli about her past; she had an odd craving for a cigarette. She and Shane would occasionally share a cig stolen from his mom's pack after fooling around. Eli seemed like he'd be the type to smoke, but never around someone like "Saint Clare".

Eli ran a hand along her shoulder and down to her firm backside, giving her buttocks a playful squeeze. Clare giggled and rolled over on her side to cuddle next to him, throwing a leg over his hip. Eli smiled at her while holding her close; he brushed her cheek lightly with his fingertips, looking into her half-lidded eyes.

"So, I called you last night. No answer, what were you up to?" he asked, trying not to sound mistrusting.

"You called me? Why? I thought you were with Adam for guy's night?" Clare responded in honesty. She had noticed a missed call from Eli when she woke up, but brushed it off as him wanting to say "good night" or something. She didn't bother to check _when_ he called exactly.

"He bailed on me; plans with Fiona." Eli explained, shortly.

"Oh." Clare nodded.

"So, what were you up to?" Eli asked again, reaching out to stroke her hair. "Hanging out with your old Catholic school buddy?" he asked casually. On the inside, he was dead serious. If Clare was still hanging around that kid, he deserved to know.

Clare didn't want to admit that she was indeed with Shane the previous night. They hadn't done anything _too _terrible for them, just smoked joints and watched TV in his apartment. A flashback to their sessions the year before but without the heavy petting.

"Just hanging out at home, reading and what not. Went to bed early." She lied.

"Must've gone to bed pretty early then. I called you at like, 8:30." She swore his eyes narrowed with accusation.

"I was tired, that's all. Sorry I can't answer every time the phone rings." Clare said with a light trace of sarcasm, trying to keep him at ease.

"Hn." Eli muttered. "Have any interesting dreams?" he asked with venom in his words. Clare shot him a dark look; she knew exactly where this was going. She untangled herself from his arms and began searching for her discarded clothes.

"What are trying to say to me, Eli?" she snapped. "Spit it out already, because I'm tired of this interrogation!" She located her bra and underwear on the floor and pulled them on, keeping her eyes on the green eyed boy in bed.

Eli was a bit taken back by girlfriend's outburst. He was hoping that having her in such a vulnerable, unclothed state would be better for him when starting this conversation. He had been counting on her natural shyness to let the truth out. Lately, he had noticed that Clare was somewhat distant, as if her mind was a million miles away. He knew there was something she was trying to keep from him; he wasn't sure if it was about that dream that left her puking or that Shane kid he saw her with at the Dot, but he was determined to find out. Inviting her over, getting her naked and in his bed; it was all part of plan to finally get the truth out of her.

But in reality, plans _always_ worked better in theory.

"Clare," Eli sighed, "I know you're keeping something from me, just tell me, please." He said softly. "I really don't want to fight with you." He added with honesty.

Clare hooked her bra into place and looked at him with widened eyes. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. He had found her out, he had seen through her mask. She suddenly felt a cold sadness wash over her; the reality of losing Eli was starting hit harder than she ever thought possible.

"Clare, come on just tell me." He pleaded. "Is it your parents, did something happen at home that you're not telling me about?" Eli asked. In truth he wanted to ask more about her relationship with Shane, or the odd dream, but he couldn't find the nerve within him. She just looked so lost.

His question opened up a new path for Clare to venture, a new lie to tell. Well, a 'half-lie' anyway.

"There's something I never really told you," Clare started, she sat down at the foot of the bed, keeping her eyes on Eli. "I have an older sister, Darcy, and I never really told you about her because she's been gone for awhile."

Eli's face remained unreadable except for a raised eyebrow.

"A little over a year ago, she moved to Kenya to do charity work." She further explained. "Darcy's decision to go to Africa was brought on by some…pretty harsh events. After she was drugged and date-raped at a party, she tried to kill herself." Eli let out a rare gasp. He could never have imagined the Edwards family facing any tragedy greater than being late for church.

"After trying therapy and other outlets, she decided that the best way to heal was to help other people. She said she'd only be gone for four months."

"But, she's still there?" Eli asked.

"That's the problem," Clare lied, "we're not sure anymore. Nobody's heard from her in over a month and when my parents called the charity, they said she had already packed her things and left. No one knows where she is." By now, Clare had managed to conjure up some convincing tears and Eli had the guiltiest look on his face.

"Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" he asked softly, moving over to wrap his arms around her half-naked frame.

"I'm not sure," she started, "I just felt like, maybe you would be mad at me for never having told you about her in the first place. But you have to understand, she's been gone for so long, and so much has happened since she left that- she honestly just wasn't part of my life anymore, as awful as that sounds."

Eli just nodded, part of him was astounded that Clare could just forget about her sibling; dealing with his depression over Julia's death had led him to do everything in his power to _not_ forget about her.

"We're you two close?"

"We fought, like all siblings, but there was no bad blood," _there was no relatable blood at all_ she thought to herself, "we just never really…connected as sisters. Ask any of the upperclassmen at school, Darcy and I are as different as night and day." Eli wiped a tear from her cheek and turned her face towards him.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you, Clare. I had no idea-"

"Well that's more my fault than yours." She reminded him.

"You know you can tell me anything, right? It works both ways for us. You don't have to keep me in the dark about what's going on in your life. Your honesty will not turn me away." Clare felt more tears spurting from her eyes, but this time, they were legitimate.

She wanted to tell him the real truth, she wanted to tell him everything right then and there. But real tears or not, Clare knew that she had to protect her past and her true self at any costs.

"Thank you, Eli." She said simply. They kissed each other softly.

"Do you still want to leave, I can give you a ride." He offered. Clare shook her head and smiled now that the tears had stopped.

"I don't want to leave."

"Than what do you want to do?" Eli asked, trying to mask the hopefulness in his voice. Clare gave him the sultry look that he grown so fond of during their times of intimacy.

"Well, you know what we were doing earlier?" Eli smirked. "That, but this time- you're on the receiving end." She said while pushing him down on the bed. She made quick work of his studded belt.

"I like the sound of that." Eli said huskily.

"I knew you would." Clare answered before removing his pants and boxers. Her hand made contact with his member and Eli moaned. Clare silently thanked her acting skills as she began her ministrations on Eli's cock. Her secret was safe once again, but for how long? She had no idea.

* * *

**Next Chapter: Clare returns home to a nasty surprise...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Chapter 9**

Clare woke up early the next morning so that she could sneak back home and shower before school. She was a little annoyed about it being a school day, but shrugged it off seeing as how Fridays were never that demanding at Degrassi. Even the teachers seemed to check out early for the weekend.

After saying goodbye to a half-asleep Eli, she quickly made her way back to her house. The sky was still dark by the time she made it to the front door. She noticed that the lights inside were off, meaning that Randall had yet to wake up. She unlocked the door and walked in with as much stealth as she could muster. Her father might've been fine with her faking an interest in religion, but he still expected her to maintain a sense of chastity concerning the opposite sex. It didn't matter if her and Eli never had actual sex, anything beyond a chaste kiss was a sin in Randall's eyes.

She managed to clear three steps before the living room lights flipped on, Clare stopped dead in her tracks and turned her head to look through the archway into the next room.

"Where've you been Clare-bear?" her father slurred from the couch. Much like herself, he was still dressed in his clothes from night before. But, while Clare smelled like sweat and Eli's cologne, Randall reeked of scotch. She could smell the acrid fumes wafting off of him.

"Alli's?" Clare shrugged.

"Bullshit." Randall spat, he hoisted himself from the couch and made his way over to her. Clare took a few more steps towards the second floor. "I know you were off with that boyfriend of yours doing god-knows-what! But that's not the reason I'm mad."

"Is it the reason you're drunk?" Clare spat.

"Don't talk to me like that, I am your father!" Randall barked. Clare merely shot him an unconvinced look. There's was no need to delve into that topic while he was wasted.

"Found out something very interesting while your mother and I were trying to track down Darcy." Randall leered. "Apparently, all of her credit card bills have mysteriously gotten lost in the mail." Accusation and suspicion were evident in his tone.

"So I called the credit card company and found out that your sister did indeed buy plane tickets home. I checked with the airport and she did indeed land in Toronto nearly a month ago." Clare felt her heart pump furiously. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you, Clare-bear?" Clare winced. She hated it when anybody called her "Clare-bear", but hearing it in Randall's alcohol soaked voice sent her over the edge.

"Don't call me that." She said softly, not wanting to irk him into doing something stupid.

"Would you rather I call you something else than? _Maya_?" he growled.

"Depends, is Maya what my real mother named me?"

"I think you already knew that." Randall shot back. He was right, but nonetheless Clare wanted to hear it from his mouth.

"Why did you change my name?" Clare whispered, "Why did you take away my identity?"

"Because," Randall started, "Helen hated that name. I didn't really give a shit," Clare's eyebrows shot up into her hairline, "but we had already decided on a name for the one we lost, no sense it letting it go to waste."

"The one you lost?" Clare asked. Randall suddenly realized he had told her nothing of Helen's miscarriage. "You mean I was just some meant to be some replacement? Filler in your fucked-up image of a perfect family?" she growled in frustration. Clare turned on her heel and dashed upstairs to her room. Randall stood in a haze, before realizing what was going on and lunging up the stairs after her. Clare continued her ranting while making her way to her room.

"Probably shouldn't be too surprised. If Helen's personality is any indicator of the state of her uterus; than that part of her must full of shit too! No way a fetus could survive surrounded by all that shit!" she screamed while lunging under her bed. Randall finally made his way to the threshold of the bedroom that _both_ his daughters once occupied.

"What are you doing?" he asked. Clare sat up from her position on the ground holding an wooden box.

"Showing you something." Clare said simply. She opened the box, making sure the contents were not visible to Randall. She pulled out a blue collar, Scruffy's collar, and threw it over to her father.

"Recognize it?" she asked. Randall examined the vaguely familiar collar in his hands; he checked the information tag clipped on it's side.

"You kept it?" Randall asked softly, "Like some kind of trophy?" his voice becoming angry once again.

"Isn't that all I was to you, _dad_? Some sort of prize to brag about to your buddies at the office? All hail the golden child, our savior and slave! You can't erase the past, Randall, and you can't try to mold me into your twisted vision of a perfect child! " She spat. Randall opened his mouth to reveal a painful truth-

"Why couldn't you have been more like Darcy? Just go along with all this church crap? " he barked.

"I'm not Darcy! I'm not even related to Darcy! You know that!" she shrieked while rummaging through the box.

"That doesn't matter! You could've made your mother happier and my life easier, but instead you-" Clare cut him off;

"Don't you dare try to blame me for your failed marriage! You have no right to single me out." Clare said sternly. "Everyone in this fucked-up family had a part in destroying it." She held a finger out to him, "You, me, Helen, even Darcy. Hell your marriage started heading south as soon as she bought her fuckin' tickets for Kenya"

"You do not use that type of language in this house!" he yelled. Clare only shook her head and reached into the box, pulling out another object. She tossed that to Randall as well.

Randall caught the object with quick hands and looked down into his palms, flabbergasted. He was holding a golden chain necklace with a matching cross. Darcy might've been gone for a while, but any parent could've recognized such a signature piece of jewelry. Especially when he was the one who gave it to her.

A tidal wave of emotions and scenarios flooded his drunken mind.

"What did you do? What did you do!" Randall screamed. Tears starting pouring down his face at the horrid realization.

"I don't think you need me to explain any further." Clare glowered.

Randall dropped to his knees and began sobbing. Part of him knew that all of this was his fault. His hasty decision to rebuild his wife's stability as a mother and a woman, bringing "Clare" into the family; it had all led up to this-

Darcy's departure

His own ruined marriage

Clare's struggle to control her darkness

"Don't worry; I gave her a proper burial, right next to a church even. Of course, the place is ruins, but, I think it makes it that more symbolic don't you think? A homage to her shattered faith." Clare said.

Randall crawled on his knees towards the vacant bed that once belonged to his only biological daughter. He wrapped his arms around the untouched pillow, desperately trying to find a trace of Darcy; her smell, a strand of hair, dead skin cells, anything.

But the pillow was barren of any evidence of Darcy, untouched for so long.

He turned his head towards Clare who was currently packing up her bag for school. His attention turned to the box sitting on her bed.

"Think you can leave now? I have to get dressed for school." Clare said motioning to the skinny jeans and sweater she had been wearing the night before.

"What's in the box?" Randall asked darkly.

"See for yourself." Clare shrugged. She didn't care what Randall knew about her anymore.

Randall made his way over to the bed, his feet stumbling still in the after effects of the alcohol he had previously ingested. What he saw shook him to his very core; dog collars. Probably close two dozen of them from what he could see. Collars in all shapes, sizes and colors. A monument to Clare's inner aggression.

"What is wrong with you?" He screamed.

"You're what's wrong with me! I might not have a single strand of DNA from you, but you created this." she sneered while motioning to herself.

"I was only trying to help you, Clare-Bear!" Randall countered.

"Don't call me that!" Clare shrieked. Randall must've really hit a nerve, because the next thing he knew a desk lamp was being chucked at his head. He reacted as quickly as his brain allowed, ducking enough to that the lamp only smacked his left eyebrow, before shattering to pieces on the floor.

"Dammit!" he growled while clutching his forehead in pain, blood was already pouring from the small wound. He staggered to his feet and looked at Clare darkly. He was only reciprocated with her usual look of disinterest, the same expression he sometimes caught her making in church.

It only made him angrier.

With unbelievable speed, Randall lunged forward towards Clare, attempting to grab her by the arm. But Clare had already backed out of the room and sprinted down the hall.

"Get back here! Get back here so I can give you what you've always deserved!" he yelled while running in his daughter's path. Without thinking twice, he quickly scooped up a fragment of the broken lamp from the floor. The edges were jagged enough to at least break the skin.

"Try and catch me, Randall!" Clare yelled teasingly. Randall ran towards the stairs, but stopped once he realized that Clare was nowhere to be seen. He stood at the top of the steps in confusion. Had he just hallucinated that entire ordeal? Was this his mind playing tricks on him?

"Think fast." A voice whispered from behind him, Randall turned around just in time to see Clare move from behind the door to the linen closet and into the hallway.

He raised the shard of broken ceramic above his head, pausing to see her reaction. To see if he could scare her. But, instead of running away or breaking down into tears like he hoped she would, Clare did something surprising.

She came right at him, both hands raised in front of her. Despite the adrenalin pumping through his veins, Randall could've sworn that time slowed down at that very moment. His attention turned to Clare's left hand, stretched out before her. The silver ring that was supposed to resemble a promise, not to remain abstinent as outsiders thought, but to never reveal her true self to the world.

Before he knew it, Clare hands had made a forceful impact on his chest, sending his unbalanced body reeling backwards. He had completely forgotten about the stairs until he felt the back of his head hit hard wood, and things became black.

* * *

Clare watched as her father's limbs flailed into unimaginable angles, knocking into the wall and the hard wooden steps. The sight would've almost been comical had the events that took place before hand had not occurred. An unmistakable snap was heard before Randall finally tumbled down the last few steps; landing in heap on the floor.

His neck was bent under the weight of his head; obviously broken.

"Shit." Clare whispered. She bounded down the steps quickly and lent over her unconscious father. Amazingly, he was still breathing, but his faint breaths sounded horse coming from the awkward angle of his neck.

She knew that this was something that could not be covered up like Darcy or some stray dog. No, this was a situation that needed to be approached with premeditated lines and false tears. This was just another stage set for her to star as "Saint Clare"- the frail little virgin surrounded by a shattered family.

Without missing a beat, Clare pulled out her cell phone and called 911 in a calmed hysteria, blurting out the address as if tears were about to take over her voice. The operator on the other line told her to expect in ambulance within ten minutes. She then conjured up some real tears and called Helen's cell phone; hoping she hadn't arrived at work yet.

"Clare?" Helen answered.

"Mom! You have to some to the house now!" Clare said, her voice beginning to break.

"What? What happened? Where's your father?"

"That's the problem! I woke up this morning and dad was walking around drunk. He kept rambling on about Darcy being gone and ended up falling down the stairs!"

"Oh my god! Is he alright?" Helen asked in genuine concern. Another family emergency was not what they needed right now.

"I don't know! He won't wake up and I think his neck might be broken, it's at a really weird angle! I called an ambulance and they should be here soon. " she explained. "But mom, I'm scared." She added for additional emotional impact.

"Don't worry honey, I'm on my way, just sit tight!" Helen hung up without a goodbye and Clare relaxed her panicked breathing. She looked down at her watch; it was still relatively early in the morning- 6:39 am. Clare sighed, she really didn't want to go to school that day, not after what just happened.

Luckily, Helen was a total pushover for the "daughter in distress" act.

* * *

**Too proud to fish for reviews, too nihilistic to care.**


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Chapter 10**

"Clare, honey?" Helen called to her distant daughter in the hospital waiting room. They had arrived at the hospital about an hour ago, Randall was still in surgery.

"Yeah?"

"I'm really sorry to do this to you, but I need to get to work. I have some important meetings lined up that can't be resched-"

"Mom, it's fine." Clare sighed. In truth she _wanted_ Helen to leave.

"Oh, okay then. Well, I called the school to let them know that you wouldn't be in; I didn't tell them why exactly." She admitted, "Call my cell if anything comes up."

"Bye, mom." Clare mumbled, trying to sound depressed. Helen briskly exited the waiting room and Clare pulled out her phone.

The events following Randall's fall had been a blur of fake tears and sirens. Not only did an ambulance arrive to bring Randall to the hospital, but Clare was shocked at the arrival of a police car to her house. She easily played the part of the heartbroken daughter when recounting the events of that morning to the officers. Of course, she left out the part where they argued before she pushed him down the stairs.

The cops bought every word of it, writing in their report; _Clare had returned that early morning from a friend's house to an intoxicated and dangerous father. He refused to comply with his daughter's suggestion to lie down and sleep off his intoxication. Falling down the stairs was his own bad judgment_.

"Ms. Edwards?" a voice called out.

"Yes?" Clare looked up from her phone to see a woman dressed in scrubs standing before her.

"I just wanted to update you on your father's state. He's still in surgery; besides the broken neck he also sustained a fractured pelvis and a sprained knee. However what's more serious is a blood clot that has formed in his brain due to the concussion. The doctors were able to remove it, but there's really no telling what his mental condition will like until he wakes up."

"You mean he might have amnesia or become dim-witted or something?"

"Those are all possibilities, yes." The nurse admitted. "But you shouldn't let yourself worry too soon. He'll be out of surgery within the hour , you can go in an see him then."

"Thank you." Clare said simply. The nurse nodded walked off, leaving Clare to turn her attention back to her phone. Not surprisingly, there were several texts from Eli asking if she needed a ride to school and where she was. Instead of responding immediately, she brought up her contact list and highlighted Shane's name, hitting the "send call" button. Shane answered after two rings.

"You know Clare, not everyone gets up at the ass crack of dawn to greet the new day." Shane said, tiredly.

"What do you mean? It's like 9:30, not that early."

"It is when you no longer have to attend school." He shot back.

"Whatever. Look I need a favor-" Clare started.

"You need someone to take your virginity?" Shane asked

"No, you idiot!" Clare got up and walked outside to get away from curious ears in the waiting room. "Look, long story short- I got into an argument with Randall, pushed him down the stairs, and he might or might not remember it when he wakes up."

"Interesting." Shane commented.

"Also, I spilled the beans to him about Darcy and I don't think he'll be quiet about it _if_ he wakes up."

"So what do you need from me?" Shane asked

"To help me make sure he _doesn't_ wake up."

* * *

Clare found herself once again in the waiting room, staring at Eli's texts. She had received two more while on the phone with Shane, formulating a plan. After thinking over the words for a while, she flipped open her phone and wrote a quick text to her boyfriend.

_My dad was in an accident, at hospital until he wakes up. Call u later._

She sent the text and leaned back in her chair. Two hours had passed since her phone call to Shane and she was starting to grow anxious. The nurse had informed her that Randall was now out of surgery and still asleep, but he could still be seen by family members. Clare began to grind her teeth in impatience; what if Shane couldn't get a hold of the stuff? What if he decided to back-out of their plan and leave her to face the consequences alone while he skipped town again?

She was about to call him and see where he was when a hand landed on her shoulder.

"Hey." Shane's voice said somberly.

"Hey." Clare stood up and surprised Shane by wrapping him into a tight hug. Shane returned it eagerly.

"Nice to see that you're not completely put off by my presence, for once." Shane pointed out.

"You're the only person who can help me with this, Shane. Thank you." She whispered into his ear. Shane pulled back slightly and placed a light kiss on her forehead.

"You know I would do anything for you," he said, "even if I am blackmailing you at the time." He added with a smile.

"Come on," Clare grabbed his hand and lead him towards the elevator, hitting the button for Randall's floor when they got in. The doors sealed shut, isolating them from the world briefly. "So, we're good to go then?" Clare asked.

"Yep." Shane pulled out hypodermic needle from the pocket of his torn jeans and held it up to Clare. "Potassium Chloride, the same stuff used to put down criminals; don't ask me how I got it."

"I'm just glad you did." She said truthfully. "Will they be able to trace it in his blood?" she asked.

"I wouldn't worry about that. Under the conditions he's in, there's no way they would do a toxicity test on his body. All we got to do is inject him with it and get out before his life support starts beeping off the walls."

"Sounds good." The elevator stopped at their destination and the two teens walked down the hall towards Randall's assigned room. He was lying motionless except for the relaxed rise and fall of his chest. His neck was in a brace, bandages were wrapped around his head, a slow beeping sound filled the room.

Clare walked up to the side of the bed, eying her father with interest before looking down at the IV attached to his arm.

"Is there anything you wanted to say to him?" Shane asked, "Because this is your last chance, even if he can't hear you. Beats chatting up a stiff corpse at the funeral."

Clare let out a light chuckle, more so for Shane than for herself. She reached out and gently touched Randall's hand.

"I know that all you ever wanted for me was to go down the right path. But you and I have very different definitions of what that is. You took me into your heart and home, but it came at a terrible price- the loss of my real identity, something that will probably tear at me forever. " Clare whispered to the unconscious man. "But, despite all the recent events that led us to this moment, I want to thank you. You were the first person who saw me for what I truly was, and you didn't push me away, you tried to help me. Even though you couldn't help me the way you wanted; I am truly grateful for the things I learned from you. How to not only control my emotions, but to also appear…normal." Clare finished somberly.

"I just wanted to get that out in the open." she gave Randall's hand one last squeeze.

She turned to Shane and nodded. He pulled the protective cover from the needle and handed it to Clare. Without hesitance, she jabbed the point into the IV and rested her thumb on the plunger. She looked at Randall's bruised face.

"Goodbye, dad." She pressed down on the plunger, emptying the lethal fluid into the IV where it quickly dispersed into Randall's veins.

"Come on," Shane said, "Let's get some coffee." Clare removed the needle and placed the protective cover back on before handing it over to Shane for safe storage. They quickly made their way downstairs to the food court while Randall Edwards spent the remainder of his life alone in his hospital room.

* * *

Shortly after paying for their coffee, an announcement sounded over the hospital PA, requesting that members of the Edwards family report to Randall's room. Clare already knew what this was about; she prepared herself for another onslaught of forced tears.

She listened beside an emotionless Shane as the doctor somberly explained Randall's turn for the worse.

"This isn't something I normally would've expected, given his condition. But nonetheless, these things do happen; it's something that medical science has yet to explain. I am very sorry for your loss."

"Tha-Thank you, Dr. Anderson." Clare heaved. The older man handed her a tissue.

"I'm even more sorry over the fact that you're receiving this information without your mother here."

"She had to go to work." Clare explained, "also my parents recently divorced, so…" Clare trailed off into sobs. She turned her head into Shane's shoulder for dramatic effect. The somber boy wordlessly wrapped a comforting arm around her.

"I see- well, we'll need to contact her in order to discuss uh, certain issues." The doctor explained hesitantly. Clare's heart rate sped up slightly, Shane squeezed her shoulder.

"What kind of issues?" she asked, fearing the worse; autopsy, toxicity report, exposure.

"Well, organ donation for one thing, also where we need to discuss where to send your father's…remains. As in her funeral home of choice. This is nothing that a girl your age should have to discuss." Dr. Anderson explained. Clare inwardly breathed a sigh of relief before giving him her mother's cell phone number. He excused himself from the room.

Clare stared at the empty bed where just minutes ago she had killed her father. The bed was stripped clean, fresh sheets had yet to be put on for the next patient. Clare turned to Shane, who still had his arm around her.

"Thanks for playing along."

"I thought it would look weird if I just stood there doing nothing." He explained. "Sorry if I crossed a boundary." He withdrew his arm from her. Clare reached down and gave his hand a light squeeze.

"Don't worry about it." Clare said softly, she let go of his hand and walked to the window, looking out into the hospital parking lot.

"So," Shane said, trying to fill the silence."Looks like it's just you and Helen now." He pointed out. "Or did you have plans for her too?"he joked.

"Shut up." Clare said, keeping her back to him while looking out the window. But Shane knew her voice well enough to tell that she was smiling.

"Well, if you ever need anything, I'm here." Shane said, "And as long as you're around, I don't plan on leaving." He stepped forward, joining her side at the window.

"That means a lot to me, Shane." Clare whispered. She looked over at him, into his cold, dark eyes that saw her for everything she truly was.

"I mean it." He said with seriousness, "You're the only person on this earth I care about."

Shane's confession struck a chord within Clare. Despite everything that happened within the past 12 hours, this moment with Shane, was the most emotionally charged event of the day for her. But she knew she couldn't give him everything he wanted even if a small part of her longed to.

Shane brought out the worst in her, whether she said it aloud or not, they _both_ knew it was true.

"And now that Randall's gone, you're the only person who knows the real me." Clare countered.

She turned her head back to the window and glanced down at the parking lot. A familiar car caught her eye as it parked close to the hospital's entrance and Clare's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. She might've been five stories off the ground, but she could've recognized that specific vintage hearse anywhere.

"Shit!"

"What is it?"

"Eli." She said pointing towards the parked hearse as a small figure in black stepped out and made a beeline for the Emergency Room entrance. Clare checked her phone, which had been on silent since she sent Eli a message about her location. There were several texts from Eli.

_What happened to him? Are you alright?_

_Clare?_

_Skipping out early today, be at the hospital in 15. meet me in the waiting room._

"You have to go." Clare said immediately. Shane merely nodded

"I'll take the stairs down to the side exit, no chance we'll cross paths that way." Shane said as he made his way to the door, Clare grabbed his arm and turned him around, pulling him into another unexpected hug. They stayed like that for a few seconds before breaking apart.

Shane banked left towards the emergency stairs while Clare caught the elevator to the main floor. She stood in the elevator nervously, knowing that she'd have to transition back into the mourning daughter once she saw Eli. This was not how she wanted to end her day, with more forced tears.

The elevator door opened and Clare's heart nearly stopped when she Eli waiting on the other side of the sliding doors. Without missing a beat, she stepped towards him and buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and led her off to the side of the waiting room for some privacy.

"What happened? Are you alright?" Eli asked, pulling back so he could see her face.

"Yes-but," Clare paused.

"But what? How's your dad, how'd he get hurt?" Eli pressed. She took a deep breath.

"When I got home this morning he was drunk, and angry…" Clare tried to think back to the story the told the cops.

"Was he mad about you spending the night with me?" Eli asked, guilt was evident in his voice.

"He didn't even bother to ask where I was," she lied, "he just kept talking about how upset he was about Darcy being gone. I tried to get him to calm down, sleep it off or whatever. I don't have much experience in dealing with drunk people." she admitted, falsely. "But he was just so incoherent, he ended up tripping down the stairs and got hurt really badly." Clare said, conjuring her most shaken voice.

"How badly?" Eli asked, tilting her head up to meet his eyes, which she was doing her best to avoid.

"My dad's dead, Eli." Clare said shortly before breaking into rehearsed sobs. Eli pulled her closer to his body, rubbing her back and whispering comforting things in her ear. Clare stayed in his arms, lifting her head to glance past his shoulder; she was interested in the kind of reaction onlookers might have to her and Eli's moment.

Through the glass entry doors stood Shane, hands jammed casually in his pockets while looking at the couple in interest. Clare caught his eye and gave him a look of confusion, Shane just smiled lightly before turning around and walking away from the building. She felt herself relax, and pulled away from Eli to explain further.

"The fall caused a clot to form in his brain which they tried to fix with emergency surgery, but I guess they just couldn't save him."

"Clare, I am so sorry about your dad," he said sincerely, "If there's anything you need, anything at all. Just let me know." Clare nodded and pulled him back into a hug.

* * *

Eli parked Morty in front of Clare's house and turned to his distressed girlfriend. Their ride had been painfully quiet for obvious reasons, but Clare was no longer crying; something they were _both_ thankful for.

"Is your mom home?"

"No, she's still at work as far as I know. This was her week to stay in the condo, anyway." Clare said.

"Would you…like some company? Order a pizza, maybe watch a movie? I don't like the idea of you alone in that empty house." Eli offered hopefully. He wanted to be there for her, comfort her some more as payback for her patience with his hoarding problem.

But Clare wasn't in the mood for an innocent night in with Eli, and she seriously doubted he would be up for anything intimate.

"No thanks, I kind of want to be alone right now. Try and digest the fact that my father is dead." _By my own hands_, she thought to herself.

Eli felt slightly discouraged, "Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm sure." Clare was about to open the door to get out when Eli's hands pulled on her arm to stop. She turned to face him in confusion as the dark haired boy pulled her into his embrace. He placed gentle kisses on her forehead, eyelids, and cheeks before skipping over her pleading lips to attack her neck with more tender pecks. Clare sighed contently and ran a hand through his thick locks.

Eli pulled back from her neck and placed his lips next to her ear.

"I love you, Clare." He murmured softly

Clare felt her insides freeze, not knowing how to respond to this confession. Did she really feel love Eli? She liked spending time with him, yes, but he was essentially just another part of her mask, an identity thrust upon her by her now deceased foster father.

Eli caught on to Clare's hesitation and pulled back to look her in the eyes. She could tell by his face that he was unsettled, maybe even nervous at her silence. Clare's mind was scrambling to say something back, anything that would wipe that expectant look off his face.

"Me too." She whispered, instantly regretting her choice of words as soon as they left her lips. Eli stared at her as she desperately tried to look anywhere but his eyes. An awkward silence invaded the hearse.

Not sure what to do now, she gave him a light peck on the lips before turning back to the passenger side door. "I should go, it's been a long day." She said hurriedly.

"Clare-" Eli started.

"I'll talk to you later." She said, cutting him off as she slammed Morty's door shut. She hurried up to the front door of her house without looking back at Eli, still parked out front. She shut the door behind her and leaned against the hard wood, steadying her breath. The sound of Morty's engine becoming distant eased her right out of her uneasy state.

The day had been very eventful, a roller coaster of tense moments and forged emotions. But listening to Eli say the only three words that could ever catch Clare Edwards off-guard took the accolade for second-worst moment of the day, right behind her awkward response.

It didn't take a genius of social situations to tell you that no one wants to hear the response "me too" to a confession of true love. Clare knew that Eli was aware of that, but she was still positive that he had yet to forget about the night where she awoke screaming in terror and wouldn't tell him why. Knowing Eli's intrusive manner, it was only a matter of time before the uncomfortable accusations started. She had inadvertently done nearly everything to make Eli question her trust in him.

Clare knew that this little fiasco would lead to a serious talk with Eli, a talk that was a long time coming.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Chapter 11**

The day of Randall's funeral took place within 48 hours of his death. Clare watched with dry eyes as the man she called "dad" was lowered into the ground. Clare couldn't bring herself to express sadness or anger as she stood in the cemetery, surrounded by Randall's colleagues and whatever members of his family who could make it that day.

She didn't attend school the past couple of days at her mother's insistence; Helen was emotionally crushed to hear about Randall's death despite the fresh ink on their divorce papers. Compared with the unknown state of Darcy- the pressure was almost too much for her. Clare allowed herself to be the strong through it all, taking over phone calls when the older woman would break down into tears, searching through her father's closet for a suit to be buried in; Clare easily found it within herself to step up and take charge.

She would go through the motions, as Randall would've liked her to.

The past few days had also contained little communication with Eli. He had tried to call her of course, but Clare always found an excuse to end the conversation. She was thankful he hadn't decided to show up unannounced at her house like in the past.

She couldn't help but notice the strange looks the other attendees were giving her. While Helen was sobbing uncontrollably, Clare remained calm despite the voice inside her head displaying her inner anger.

_What am I supposed to do now, Randall?_ She thought to herself, _What do I do now that it's your body in the casket and everyone's expecting me to emotionally self-destruct? Yet in reality, I feel nothing. _She realized something, Randall was more than just her foster father, he was her guiding light in a way. He taught her how to control and fake emotions, he taught her how to appear normal when on the inside she was an absolute mess.

With Randall gone, her emotions were now her own.

The one thing that gave her peace of mind at the moment was Shane's presence at her side. Clare had invited him; she wanted someone there who knew what was really going on, who wouldn't judge her for not crying. Helen said nothing about the loathsome boys' presence there; she was in no mood to argue with what was left of her shattered family.

The priest finally finished with whatever he was saying and the funeral attendees dispersed to their cars. Helen walked over to have a few words with the priest, leaving Clare and Shane by themselves.

"How you holding up?" Shane asked

"Bored out of my skull, no thanks to Father Never-shuts-Up over there." Clare said bitterly. Shane allowed a slight smirk to settle on his face.

"So what's happening now?"

"Normally, everyone would go back to the home of the deceased for food and further words of sympathy, but not in this case. Helen didn't much feel like entertaining, and most of these people are on lunch break from work." Clare pointed out. A majority of the people there had actually worked with Randall.

"So, would you maybe want to…hang out? Get faded?" Shane asked while mimicking the act of hitting a joint.

"That actually sounds really nice right now." She admitted.

"Screw you Edwards, that idea sounds nice to me all the time." Shane joked, Clare allowed herself a light laugh as Shane slowly placed an arm around her shoulder. She didn't pull away.

Clare let out a low breath, "Thanks for coming today, I don't think I couldn't have survived this without you here."

Shane looked at her in confusion, "What do you mean? All I did was stand here, bored out of my mind while everyone else but you was in tears."

"Exactly." Clare confirmed. Shane grinned and looked like he was about to say something when a familiar voice called out Clare's name. She felt her shoulders tense up under Shane's arm as she turned to face her neglected boyfriend walking towards them, appropriately dressed in black.

She could see a glimmer of mistrust shine in Eli's eyes as he spotted Shane, dressed so coyly in a dark gray suit with a comforting arm that was now being retracted from her shoulder. Clare herself was dressed in a simple black knee-length dress with a scooped neckline, revealing only a hint of her ample cleavage.

Eli couldn't help but raise his eyebrow at Shane's presence. "What's he doing here?" he asked before he could stop himself. Clare felt a small ping of guilt for not having invited Eli to the funeral, but then again he didn't know her father very well, no one did.

"Shane's been a friend of the family for a while." She explained, although it was far from true.

"Oh." Eli said, he shifted on his feet uncomfortably, "Can I talk to you, alone?" he shot Shane a dark look while emphasizing the alone part.

"Sure," she relented, turning to Shane. "Thanks again." Shane smiled easily and gave Eli a curt nod before walking off.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here." Clare admitted.

"Not surprising, considering I had to look up the funeral time and location in the paper." Eli said shortly. Clare sighed.

"Look, Eli- I'm sorry if-"

"Why weren't you crying?" Eli cut her off. Clare looked at with confusion, wondering how long he had been there. Had he stood off to the side during the entire ceremony so Clare couldn't see him?

"Because I didn't feel like it." Clare answered, the truth for once. Eli gave her a peculiar look, she wasn't exactly sure what his reaction would be.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I don't know, I'm just- tired." Clare paused, "I'm tired of watching my family continue to crumble and crying doesn't do anything to fix it, nothing does." Eli nodded, but she wasn't sure if he really understood.

"Look, Clare, I think we should talk. I know that this is a bad time to do it, right after your dad's funeral and everything, but there are questions that I really need answered, by _you_."

Clare nodded, knowing that this confrontation would happen sooner or later, "Lead the way."

Eli led her to the cemetery path towards a gray sedan; Clare gave him a confused look.

"It's my mom's car. I thought it would be…disrespectful to drive a hearse to a funeral." Eli explained.

"Oh." Clare got in to the car just as her cell phone started to vibrate, she reached into her purse to check it; a text from Shane.

_Ditching me for the goth boy, yet again? Just remember we have a date on Wednesday._

Clare went with her better judgment to not text Shane back at the moment, sitting beside Eli. Even though deep down she knew she'd much rather be goofing around with Shane and then having an uncomfortable and emotional conversation with her neglected boyfriend.

* * *

Clare felt a cold shiver pass through her as Eli pulled up to the abandoned church. She had gone from one family member's resting place to another; not that anyone needed to know that. Eli turned off the car and sat silently, keeping his eyes on the windshield. Clare felt motivated to say something, but Eli was the one who dragged her here; he was the one who wanted to _talk_.

Eli let out an unreadable sigh and exited the car without a word, leaving Clare by herself. She watched as he ambled past the crumbled archways before opening the door to get out and follow him. Truth be told, she wasn't sure what to expect. Would he interrogate her about Shane's presence at the funeral? Press her to spill the details of her stomach-churning dream?

Would he break up with her?

Clare shuddered inwardly at the thought; she didn't need Eli to survive, but having him there made her life not easier, but rather meaningful. Despite what she _had_ with Shane, deep down she knew that Eli was the closest thing to love she would ever find. Underneath his dark personality and emotional baggage, he was sweet, caring and protective.

She watched as Eli seated himself on the remnants of a diminished stone wall. He looked at her, in the eyes, the first time since they left the cemetery. He raised a hand to beckon her over, which she regrettably followed.

A sudden thought occurred to her and she cursed inwardly for not realizing it before; the awkwardness that had occurred just two days ago concerning three words that were supposed to uplift and enforce, but only shook Clare to her very core with uncertainty and panic.

Eli let out another sigh as Clare seated herself next to him, leaving about a foot of empty space between their bodies. "Clare," Eli started, "I wanted to apologize to you."

Her mouth opened in confusion. "For what?" she asked.

"For what I did the other day, for putting you in that position." Eli said softly.

"What position are you referring to?"

"The one where I open my big, stupid mouth at the worst possible time." His voice was becoming somewhat angry. The expression "caught off guard" could not even apply to Clare at this point. She was expecting a lot of different scenarios, but an apology wasn't one of them.

"Eli, is this about-"

"I just wanted you know," Eli cut her off, "that I meant what I said. It wasn't just some meaningless reassurance that I would be there for you, I will always be there for you, of course-"

"You're kind of rambling." Clare pointed out.

"What I mean is, I didn't say those things because I wanted to comfort you, I said them because I really mean it. I have never felt something so strongly before, not even with Julia." His voice cracked slightly at the deceased girl's name. "I've been trying to figure out the right way to tell you, something romantic and outlandish that a girl as beautiful as you deserves. But the words just slipped out of my mouth at a time when I thought you needed to hear it most." He explained sadly. "But I guess I was wrong." Eli stood up and dragged a hand through his thick hair in frustration.

Clare might've been a stranger to profound revelations about love and heartbreak, but she recognized a golden opportunity for atonement when she saw it.

"Eli-" she stood up to face him and took hold of his hands, "I'm really sorry about the other day, you just-" she paused for emotional effect, "caught me off guard." She took a deep breath while carefully calculating her next words. "I love you Eli, and I'm sorry if I did anything to make you doubt that."

Eli's face brightened instantly, he stepped forward and placed his hands on her waist, staring into her nervous eyes. Without another word, he leaned down and kissed her softly, gingerly coaxing her lips apart with his tongue. Clare opened her mouth to let him instantly, but restrained herself from deepening the sweet sentiment into something lusty and hard. She weaved her fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp with the tips of her fingers.

He moaned into her mouth at the pleasant sensation before breaking away. "I'm really, really glad you said that." He said with a light chuckle. Clare noticed how relived he looked which allowed her to feel the same way.

Yet, deep within her thoughts, a voice cackled - _what a dunce!_

* * *

The next few weeks of Clare's life passed by with uneventful slowness; the search for Darcy had officially been declared as a cold case due to lack of evidence concerning her well-being. Helen didn't have the heart to let them pronounce Darcy dead yet, and Clare didn't have the gall to tell her the truth. No one could know the truth.

Her physical relationship with Eli seemed to have taken two steps back ever since they both pronounced their love for each other. Clare had hoped that uttering those three difficult words would open Eli's eyes to the fact that she was ready to consummate their love. However, the only touch being offered by Eli was comforting hugs and hand-holding. She had questioned him about his refusal to initiate intimacy; his reasoning was that he didn't want to upset her by moving too fast. He was still under the impression that Randall's death had an emotional effect on her, despite her dry eyes at the funeral.

To say that she was not pleased with Eli's nobleness was understatement. Finally, she had managed to progress their relationship into sexual territory, only to have swiped away from her once Randall was placed in the ground. Still, she refrained herself from starting an argument with him or even worse offering herself up to Shane. They both knew he still had those feelings for her.

On the subject of her old friend, Clare had found herself actually looking forward to hanging out with Shane, even if it was blackmail. She found herself needing a break from Eli more than ever; his constant questions of whether she was okay or not had started to grind onto her last remaining nerve.

And so Clare found herself in the company of Shane on yet another Wednesday night. The weather in Toronto had finally transitioned into above-freezing temperature, leading Shane to suggest taking their intoxication to the streets. The term "urban adventure" had a completely different meaning with Shane.

Using his superficial charm and fake ID, Shane had managed to buy a bottle of rum, some of which they distributed into tow half-empty bottles of Coke while keeping the remainder in Shane's back pack. They spent about an hour wandering the streets near Shane's apartment to the park where they had slaughtered so many dogs.

* * *

For the first time in a while, Clare felt at ease, partially in thanks to the rum.

Chucking his now-empty Coke bottle aside, Shane jogged over to the playground carousel, beckoning Clare to join him. They sat across from each other while the carousel spun at a leisurely pace. Shane produced both a joint and the remainder of the rum from his bag. He slid the bottle over to Clare who immediately took a swig while Shane searched for his lighter.

"Do you remember what we would do last year whenever we got drunk together?" Clare asked, lowering the bottle from her lips. Shane smirked around the joint, emitting a puff of smoke before answering her.

"As I recall, alcohol either made you horny or violent." He waggled his eyebrows playfully, "which are you feeling now?"

"Neither." She said simply, "I feel…relaxed, content with everything. The nations of the world could engage in nuclear war and I wouldn't give a shit." Shane laughed, passing the joint to her while pulling the bottle from her hands.

"So, how's the boy?" Shane asked casually.

"What do you care?" Clare responded critically.

"I don't. But until you transitioned into the carefree, drunken beauty who I admire so much," Clare let out snort, "you were acting like something was pissing you off."

"Shane Newman, once again I am blown away by your ability to pick up on m demeanor." She joked.

Shane quirked his eyebrow, "Seriously though, what's eating you?"

"More like _who's not_ eating me." Clare growled under her breath. Shane heard her loud and clear, catching on immediately.

"What's this I hear? Goth boy is holding back on the oral loving?"

"He's holding back on everything!" she exclaimed. Clare normally never discussed sex with anyone except Eli, but she couldn't turn down a much needed opportunity to vent. "Ever since Randall died he's been treating me like glass! He won't even touch me unless it's a hug or holding my hand; I'm not ten dammit! I don't want him to treat me sweetly and heal my wounded heart, I want him to rip my clothes off bang my brains out until I can't remember my name!" she yelled. Luckily, the park was deserted this time of night.

Shane gave his friend an unreadable yet contemplative look as he took a final drag of the joint before tossing it to the ground. The carousel continued to spin at it's easy pace.

"You know, my offer still stands. I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend or to break up with Dr. Doom; just let me be the vessel to unleash all your sexual build-up upon. Your little boyfriend," he smirked, "doesn't need to know a thing."

Clare took a heavy swig of the rum and shook her head, "I'm not going down that road again."

"Why? You were cool with it last time. What-his-face didn't suspect a thing." He pointed out.

"I know that. But Eli deserves better than that, he deserves much better than me." She said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

Shane shot a serious look, "Don't ever say that. If anything, he doesn't deserve you. But then again, no one truly does." His voice was soft yet dark, a tone that was never lost on Clare.

Clare couldn't find it within herself to verbally express her gratitude over Shane's kind words; she merely smiled and passed the bottle back to him.

"How about a change of location? The booze is starting to get to me and the constant spinning isn't helping." Shane nodded and swiftly hopped off the still-spinning playground equipment. Clare stood up a little too fast and lost her balance, falling backwards into a strong set arms.

She laughed at herself as she was helped to her now swaying feet. "Thanks, Shane." She said, but then she realized something.

Shane was standing right before her with a confused look on his face. Clare could feel someone behind, still gripping her shoulders. Panic washed over her as she quickly broke free of the stranger's grasp, scrambling towards Shane who remained unmoving.

She turned around to receive one of the biggest surprises of her life.

"Fitz?"

* * *

**A/N: Fitz? Hey, why not?**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Chapter 12**

Clare had almost forgotten about the events from Vegas Night. Although she was emotionally moved by the threat to Eli's life; had she not been surrounded by cops, she would've showed that Neanderthal how to _really_ use a knife.

"Hey there, Candy pants." Fitz smirked.

Clare, unable to re-conjure her mask as "Saint Clare" met his eyes with an equally challenging look. "Hey there, Fitzy boy." She replied before snatching the diminishing bottle back from Shane and taking a healthy swig.

Fitz raised his eyebrow in confusion at the sight of a drunken Clare Edwards, she was nothing like he assumed a drunken church girl would act. She wasn't giggling stupidly or grinding up on random guys; instead she was firing back insulting nicknames and downing rum like it was water. The presence of the unfamiliar boy caught his attention.

"Break up with one emo for another, huh?" Fitz cracked while motioning to Shane. "I guess your trading up, Edwards. This one isn't wearing any make-up!" Fitz laughed heartily at his own joke.

"Clare, two things; one, who's your gay friend? And two, tell him I'm flattered but not interested." Shane sneered while snatching the bottle away and taking sip. Fitz immediately stopped laughing and glared at Shane.

"Fitz, this is Shane, a friend of mine. In case you were interested, I'm still dating Eli." Clare explained.

"Why?" Fitz questioned, "Dude's a freak."

"None of your business," Clare snapped, she turned to Shane. "Hand it over." Shane wordlessly passed her the remaining liquor which Clare downed in one impressive, burning swallowing. Fitz let out a gasp of genuine shock.

"Clare Edwards, are you drunk?"

Clare shot him a defiant look as she let the empty bottle fall to the grass, "No, you idiot. I'm high _and_ drunk." At that moment the only thought running through her mind was _fuck the mask_, it was time to make an impression just for the hell of it.

Fitz stared in awe for a moment before nodding his head, "Right on." He gave her the sliest of smiles. Clare smirked, enjoying the momentary silence of their heated confrontation. But her feelings of accomplishment were quickly replaced with a stone-faced panic at the sound of all-too familiar voices approaching from behind.

"Yo, Fitz! Why'd you run off?" a male called out.

"And who the fuck are you talking too?" shrieked a female voice.

Clare groaned inwardly at the intrusion of non other than Bianca and KC. She was faced with a difficult decision; scramble to recover the mask of Saint Clare, or let her true self be exposed to her peers for the first time, in all her inebriated glory. The repercussions of Degrassi gossip would blow up the school and her reputation; there was no way of getting around it.

_But, talk is cheap_. Clare thought to herself. She turned on her heel to face her pathetic excuse for an ex-boyfriend and Degrassi's self-appointed Queen of the Boiler Room.

"Clare?" KC asked in an astonished voice.

"Saint Clare? Isn't it past your bed time?" Bianca sneered while ruffling Clare's curls. It didn't take a genius to recognize that the older girl was trashed.

"Dude, you're not going to believe this," Fitz said, grinning widely. "She's drunk!"

"And high, don't forget high!" Shane chimed in. Clare rolled her eyes and turned to her boyfriend's former tormentor.

"Damn Fitz, why don't you call the media as well? Post an update on your facebook!" Clare said sarcastically. "Shane, let's get out of here, I'm bored." Clare started to turn away from the shocked faces of her classmates.

"Wait, wait! Hold up!" Bianca screeched. "Explain yourself, Edwards."

"What? I can't partake in a little alcohol now and then?"

"Not when you're the Virgin Mary of Degrassi." KC said. "What's going on with you Clare, this isn't like you." Clare laughed humorlessly.

"What makes you think you know me?" she hissed.

KC gave her a confused look, "We dated." He said, as if stating the obvious. He looked over at Shane, who was smirking at Clare, having realized that this was indeed the infamous KC.

"Who are you?" KC asked in Shane's direction. He smiled, and remained silent for a moment, as if teasing him.

"If you must know, the name is Shane. But I think you'd be more interested in the fact that I'm the guy that Clare was seeing behind your back last year." KC's face fell in disbelief, "And we did a lot more than study and occasionally make-out , if you know what I mean." Clare couldn't even find it within herself to be mad at Shane for revealing the truth about her infidelity. The look on KC's face was just too priceless; she wasn't sure if he was about to tear Shane's head off or burst into tears.

"What?" KC choked out.

"Hmm, you never mentioned to me that he was deaf, just stupid." Shane grinned at Clare.

KC shot Clare a look of shock and contempt, "Is this true?" Clare braced herself for the inevitable.

"Yes." Clare answered simply and truthfully. KC's face fell into utter disbelief and anger while Bianca and Fitz watched on in en-wrapped interest.

"So what you're telling me is, before giving me shit about leaving you for Jenna, you were fucking around with this guy behind my back?" he hissed.

"Although no sex was involved, yes I was 'fucking around' behind your back." Clare said stoically.

"I can't fucking believe this," KC laughed bitterly, "Who the hell are you Clare? Really? Are you trying to tell me that you're faking the whole good Christian girl image? And what about that Eli guy, you cheating on him too?"

"If I was, would you really care either way?" Clare shot back. "Look at it this way; now you can stop looking so pathetically guilty every time you glance at me."

"This is insane!" KC pinched the spaced between his eyebrows and breathed out, trying to steady himself.

Clare crossed her arms and eyed him expectantly, "So, let's just call it even now, shall we." She suggested.

KC whipped his head up to give her an incredulous look, "Even? Even! What you did was way worse than me ditching you for Jenna!"

"Yeah, but you were unaware of it till now." Clare pointed out calmly, "It's all in the past now, KC. Get over it." She turned to Shane, "Come on."

"Where are you going?" KC shouted as Clare and Shane distanced themselves from the interlopers.

Clare stopped, and turned around, looking him dead on in the eye. "KC, shut the fuck up and go home to your sperm bank of a girlfriend."

Fitz and Bianca both howled in laughter at Clare's comment. KC merely remained silent, looking like someone had just spit in his face. An idea popped up in Clare's head; one that couldn't be ignored.

"Oh, and Fitz- I almost forgot something." She walked back towards the group and picked up the empty rum bottle from where she had left it. Shane caught her eye and gave her a questioning look, she returned it with a small smirk.

Without missing a beat, Clare quickly brought the bottle down onto the side of the carousel, smashing the smooth bottom into jagged shards. In a nearly impossible speed, she lunged at Fitz, sweeping his feet out from underneath him and pushing his back to the ground.

Before he could even try to sit up, Clare had one knee placed firmly on his chest, keeping him grounded. She gripped the broken bottle in her hand and brought it above her head in show, before bringing it back down directly above Fitz's face in a stabbing motion.

Fitz clenched his eyes shut and opened his mouth to scream, but his panicked cry softened once he realized that there was no glass tearing at his skin or gouging out his eyeballs. He opened his eyes to see the blurred tip of the jagged point of the bottle being held mere millimeters away from his pupil.

He breathed out heavily as Clare moved the jagged edge from his face to his neck, pressing it into his flesh softly. She had a calm, yet triumphant look on her face. "I guess this means that were even now too, huh?" she murmured before rising to her feet.

The terrified boy remained on the ground, his chest was heaving and tears were threatening to fall from his eyes. Despite the night's darkness, Clare could see a prominent stain on the front of his pants, she laughed out loud at the irony of everything.

"Don't worry, I once heard someone say you can bleach out urine stains." She said mockingly. She looked over at KC and Bianca, wondering they did nothing to help Fitz from getting fake-stabbed. KC seemed to be struggling to not look shocked, while Bianca had her phone in front of her face. Clare groaned inwardly.

_The drunken bitch recorded the entire thing_ she thought to herself.

"And…cut!" Bianca chirped, she lowered her phone and gave the younger girl a look that did everything but hide her obvious excitement. "Good show Saint Clare!"

Clare gave her a curt nod, not really sure what to say in response. She turned on her heel and began walking away with Shane.

"Very impressive display, _Saint Clare_." Shane smirked. "But aren't you worried about people at school finding out? I mean, cameras don't lie after all."

"When I finally sober up, yes, I probably will care." Clare admitted, "but right now, I can't help but feel slightly vindicated."

Shane laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder; this time, she didn't think to push him away.

* * *

Just as Clare expected, the whispers and judgmental looks started as soon as she stepped onto school grounds. Eli was at her side, arm around her waist rambling on about some movie he had watched the night before with Adam. He was too en-wrapped in his own summary to notice the strange looks being shot at him and his girlfriend. She hung her head in a feeble attempt to ignore the looks; her head was pounding with the negative aftereffects brought on by drinking.

"Clare!" a high pitched voice squealed. Clare turned to see Alli bounding towards her, eyes aflame with questions. "Let me borrow her for a minute." She said to Eli, without waiting for any response, she pulled the blue-eyed girl from her boyfriend's hold and marched her over one of the vacant picnic tables. Clare looked over her shoulder to see a confused and slightly pissed-off looking Eli staring after her. Alli had returned to Degrassi nearly a month ago, and Eli still wasn't used her intrusiveness on his girlfriend's time.

Alli nearly pushed Clare onto the bench before plopping down next to her and grabbing her shoulders. "What exactly did you do last night?" she hissed.

Clare grimaced, "What exactly are people saying?" she asked. Alli's mouth mouth curled into a devious smile as she pulled out her cell phone and opened up a video file. Clare groaned.

"You mean it's true!" she gasped. "This isn't a video of some Clare doppelganger scaring the piss out of Fitz?" A sly smile spread over her face. "Clare Edwards, who would've ever guessed?"

Clare sighed, "How many people have seen this?"

"I'm not sure if there's anyone who hasn't seen it." Alli responded, "This is big news Clare! It's all anyone is talking about and homeroom hasn't even started yet!" she sounded overly excited, as long as she didn't find out that Clare was also-

"But what's more interesting than the video," Allis continued, "is what KC and _Bianca_," she growled the older girl's name, "are saying about this."

"And that is?"

"That you were drunk!" Alli exclaimed with an odd giddiness. Clare waited for her to continue on about how KC was crying over the fact that Clare had been secretly cheating on him while they were together. But Alli just stood there, looking at her expectantly.

"What else are they saying?" Clare caved.

"Uh…nothing else as far as I know. Just that they stumbled upon you drinking rum in the park with some guy and then pretended to stab Fitz, which resulted in that delinquent peeing his pants." Alli rambled.

"Oh." Clare said, trying not to sound relieved.

"So…" Alli pressed on

"So what?" Alli heaved in annoyance.

"Were you really drunk?" she asked excitedly.

"Yeah." Clare nodded, no sense in denying it. She had the hangover to prove it, and Alli's voice was not helping.

"Why were you drinking? Is it because of your dad…and sister?" Alli whispered hesitantly.

"No," Clare said, feeling the mask slip away for a moment, "I just felt like it."

"Well, I guess it's okay to be impulsive once in a while." Alli assured her, she had experience with impulsive behavior, but unlike Clare's, it usually showed.

"Glad you see it that way." Clare huffed, growing bored of the conversation.

"Who were you drinking with anyway? Eli?" Alli pressed on. There was no getting around _anything_ with that girl.

"Not exactly." Clare muttered.

"Oh my god!" Alli gasped, bringing a hand to her lips. "Clare- you aren't-"

"No, I am not cheating on Eli with anyone." Clare insisted, _not physically anyway_, a voice in her head called out. "The guy I was with," Clare paused, trying to recollect the censored version of her and Shane's background, "he's just an old friend from Catholic School. He moved back to the area a couple months ago and occasionally, we hang out. He was like, my best friend back then." Clare explained. "Some habits are just hard to break." She finished thoughtfully.

"You're telling me." Alli said as she glanced over Clare's shoulder. Clare looked behind her to see Drew talking with Adam and Eli. She turned back to her love struck friend.

"You're not seriously considering going down that road again." Clare pointed out.

"Don't try and lecture me about this, Clare. I really think things could be different this time." Alli insisted, referring to her fatal attraction to Adam's pigheaded step brother.

Clare sighed, "I'll save the lecture for a later crisis. Right now, I'm more concerned about ridding myself of this hangover before the day slowly kills me."

Alli raised her eyebrows, "Wow, even hungover you still manage to say smart things." Clare shot her witty look and turned around. What she saw caused to turn back around immediately.

"I gotta go…print some stuff out in the media lab before homeroom." Clare lied, without waiting for Alli's response, she walked passed her towards the security checkpoint in front of the school.

Drew was currently showing Eli and Adam something on his phone and looks on their faces were enough to clue Clare in on what they were watching. Her.

She was comforted by the fact that their faces showed not disgust, but rather amusement. As if it was another hilarious video on youtube. But she still knew she would have to explain the back story on the situation. Clare had English with Eli and Adam in a couple hours, and Eli usually managed to be by Clare's side between classes.

Any efforts to avoid the inevitable, were futile.

* * *

Clare stood in the empty bathroom, examining herself in the mirror while trying to erase signs of her obvious fatigue. The school day hadn't even really started and already she was dying to leave. She decided to skip the unnecessary annoyance that was homeroom and hide out in the bathroom.

She knew that she couldn't avoid being in the astounded gaze and rumor mill of her classmates, but several minutes alone were enough to ease her mind slightly. Clare checked her watch and saw that homeroom was almost over, she grabbed her bag and headed out the door only to immediately run face first into a broad chest, clad in the utilitarian purple cotton that Clare herself was forced to wear ever since Vegas night.

"We should talk." KC said shortly before leading her by the arm to the secluded space underneath the stairs.

Clare leaned up against the wall and examined her first boyfriend, "What do you want?"

"I just wanted you to know, that I made Bianca and Fitz swear that they wouldn't tell anyone about that kid you were with. That _you_-" he paused, as if he was still in denial, "cheated on me. I did it to protect myself more than you. So you can thank me for that." He glowered.

"_Thanks_." Clare said with sarcasm.

KC rolled his eyes, "Well I can't have people knowing that _you _cheated on me and got away with it, it's embarrassing."

"Nobody gets away with cheating, KC." Clare reminded him. "Now, what about that video?"

"How about that video?" KC smirked while nodding. "I told Bee to whatever with it. It's not like Fitz can stop her, being expelled and what not. Lucky for you, _Saint Clare_," he sneered mockingly, "people have been giving it positive reviews."

The victorious leer of his voice set something afire inside Clare. It's was like her "pushover" switch had been flipped from on to off, like bubble of aggression had burst inside her brain.

Clare shook head and sighed, "You just think you have it all figured out, don't you?" she laughed lightly.

"Huh?" KC said.

"Silly KC, yet again you amaze me with your ability to fake above average intelligence."

_The mask began to crack_

KC glared at her, "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

Clare rolled her eyes, as if the answer were before both of them but only she could see it."If you think hard enough, you'll figure it out." Clare shrugged. "But don't think too hard," she said in a mockingly warning tone, "you wouldn't want to accidentally shit your pants like the mother of your bastard child did that one time." Clare smirked at KC's stunned expression as the bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom.

She pushed off from the wall and brushed past the confused boy, giving his shoulder a motivating yet insulting pat. Before she reached the archway into Degrassi's bustling halls, she turned to face him one last time.

Her face transitioned from teasingly sly to a daunting blankness "Just remember KC, watch your back." She allowed herself one last sinister smile before venturing into the swarm of students rushing to class.

"Mind-fucking"was a strategy that Clare had used in the past to either anger or mislead KC when they were together. She sometimes found herself enjoying the effect she had on his fragile temper, it amused her. Usually, by acting overly emotional, judgmental or fragile, she was able to twist the impressionable boy into a frantic mess of anger and sadness.

But, Clare was also aware that the subtle art of Mind-fucking could be used in a more intimidating approach.

Tear your enemy down while also instilling nonsensical paranoia in their head.

Bluffing the victim into thinking you have an unknown advantage over him.

Clare was confident that her mind games would keep KC out of her hair; her mind-fucking abilities never failed to mentally rape him before.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Chapter 13**

Clare managed to show up to English class right before the bell rang. Eli and Adam were already seated and anxiously waiting for her arrival. The pursued girl took her usual seat behind Eli just as Ms. Dawes started in the lesson. Eli tried to catch her eye as she walked passed him, but Clare kept her eyes in front of her.

"Psss," Adam whispered to her from across the aisle.

Clare turned her head to acknowledge his request. "What?" she mouthed.

Adam shot her a wide smile and whispered, "You got some explaining to do, Edwards." Clare sighed and shook her head, turning so that she could see what was going on up front. She was met with Eli's impenatrating gaze. His face was unreadable to her hungover and anxious state.

He raised his eyebrows and looked into Clare's fidgeting eyes, as if searching for answers.

"Mr. Goldsworthy! Eyes up front!" Ms. Dawes stern voice broke through the wordless exchange of the two teens. Eli gave her one last questioning look and turned towards the front of the class. Clare turned her attention to her notebook, opening it to a blank page when a crumbled ball of paper landed on top of her desk.

She shot Adam an annoyed look before un-crumpling the paper and reading his message.

_Do you have an evil twin sister, or was that really you scaring the piss out of Fitz in that video going around school? – Adam_

Clare looked up front and waited for Dawes to turn her back to the class before balling up the paper and chucking it Adam's head. She mouthed the word "Later" to the transgendered boy and buried her forehead in her left hand in an attempt to ease the pounding sensation growing behind her eyeballs.

Adam peered at her in obvious annoyance before catching Eli's eye and offering the confused boy a shrug.

Class seemed to fly by at an alarming rate. Clare found herself wishing for anything to get her out of there in an attempt to further avoid Adam and Eli, but nothing of the sort happened. She made no effort to stand up quickly or rush out of the classroom; instead, she took her time finishing up her notes and gathering up her things while all the other occupants filed out of the room.

Eli and Adam stood before her expectantly as she rose from her seat. Once the last student had walked out, they immediately pounced on Clare with questions.

"Alright, spill." Adam pressed.

"Yeah, what the hell to you get up to when I'm not around, Edwards?" Eli smirked.

Clare shot them both an annoyed look before pushing past them towards the door. They followed after her in hot pursuit.

"So, what version of the story have you heard?" Clare asked.

"Well, neither of us have _heard _much." Adam admitted, "It's the video of you and Fitz that's dominated Degrassi's gossip circles."

"What's the background story on that? He didn't threaten you did he?" Eli asked worriedly.

"No, he just annoyed me." Clare answered honestly. Adam shot his best friend a confused look.

"Well, anyway, enough about the video. We've all seen it and we all agree that it's awesome!" Adam gushed. "But, there's a rumor going around that you were drunk too." They stopped in front of their row of lockers.

Eli nodded and leaned up against Clare's locker before she could reach the combination lock. "Is that true? Couldn't help but notice you look a little…off-color today." He pointed put.

Clare sighed, "Yes, Eli, I was drunk." She admitted, "Move." She lightly shoved him away so she could open her locker.

The two boys exchanged looks of confusion and worry over Clare's unusual behavior. Her voice showed little emotion other than annoyance and her focus seemed to be elsewhere.

"Okay…" Adam said awkwardly, "I'll see you guys at lunch then." He shuffled off to leave the couple alone.

"What's going on, Clare?" Eli whispered, "I think it's truly amazing what you did to Fitz, but this behavior…"he trailed, "it just isn't you."

Clare refrained from rolling her eyes at her boyfriend's obliviousness. "Nothing's wrong, sometimes it's just nice to do something impulsive." She explained. Eli gave her an unconvinced look. Clare couldn't help but notice that it looked like he wanted to say something. "Are there any other concerns you have?" she relented.

Eli's jaw tightened, "I didn't want to talk about this, in front of Adam, so I'm just going to come out and say it." He paused. "I've heard a few different versions of what happened last night, but the detail that strikes me most is someone's claim that when Fitz and company stumbled upon you, you weren't alone." Clare swallowed hard.

"Well I can't very much drink alone, can I? That's a sign of alcoholism." She countered.

"Who were you with, Clare?" Eli asked in a stone faced manner.

Clare bit her lip, knowing that was one of his weaknesses, "You remember my friend Shane, right?"

Eli's eyes darkened in what Clare assumed was jealousy, "You got drunk with _him_?" he hissed.

"It's not something I _haven't _done before." Clare admitted, "I've known Shane for awhile."

"What if he tried to do something to you?" he pressed on.

"He wouldn't." Clare said simply. She didn't want to verbally admit that level of trust between her and Shane was much higher than what she had with Eli.

Eli shook his head, "I can't believe this." He murmured.

Clare groaned in annoyance, "Why are you even upset? I'm allowed to hang out with other guys, Eli. We didn't do anything wrong." She justified.

"Underage drinking isn't wrong, Clare?" Eli asked sarcastically.

"Don't give me that hypocritical bullshit; I know you have a fake ID for a reason!" Clare spat. Eli's eyes widened at Clare's colorful language.

Eli scratched his head and looked down at his shoes, "The bell rang like two minutes ago." He pointed out. "I'll talk to you when your hangover ends." He huffed before stalking off to his next class. Clare briefly considered making a run for the doors and skipping the rest of the day; but she knew she couldn't run away from _all_ her problems.

Checking to make sure that hallway was empty, Clare reached into her bag and pulled out a small bottle that Shane had given her weeks ago. It was one of those miniature bottles of vodka served on airplanes. Clare unscrewed the top and downed the clear liquid in a hurry before stuffing the empty container back in her bag and slamming her locker shut.

_Nothing cures a hangover like the hair of the dog that bit you_, she had remembered Shane saying in the past.

She sighed heavily before walking towards her next class. "Reality sucks." she muttered under breath.

* * *

That afternoon, Clare sat at one of the back tables of the Dot, sipping coffee and waiting for Adam and Eli to arrive. She had made through the school day without too much damage to her reputation; and the hangover that had been plaguing her all day had dwindled to a slight pressure behind her eyes. She received a text from Adam asking her to meet them there after school. And despite her longing to go home, change out of her stuffy uniform, smoke a joint and pass out; she found herself waiting for their arrival while formulating an apology.

"Hey killer!" Adam chirped as he approached Clare's table. Eli trailed closely behind him, wearing what Clare knew to be his "I'm-plotting-something" face.

Clare grinned at Adam's salutation, "Watch yourself, Torres." She joked. Adam sat himself in the chair across from her while Eli saddled up next to her, throwing an arm around her shoulder.

"Still mad at me?" Clare asked her boyfriend.

Eli shook his head, "I can't say that I was ever mad at you, annoyed and confused, sure. But not mad." He smirked.

"Well, just to get this out of the way; I want to apologize to both of you for my behavior this morning. Hangovers and me, we don't get along."

"What about your behavior last night?" Adam teased.

Clare rolled her eyes, "Why should I apologize for that?"

"You shouldn't," Eli countered, "The altercation with Fitz was just amazing; but your decision to be a closet drunk and think you can hide it from everybody, well-"

Clare interrupted him, "Are you trying to tell me I have a drinking problem?"

"No!" Adam and Eli exclaimed together.

"No, god no, Clare," Eli took one of her hands in his, "We're just a little confused and slightly hurt by the fact that you'd rather drink with old friends rather than new friends."

Clare's eyes widened slightly, "Well, that's because drinking with Shane is just a habit; not that I do it a lot," she added, "but I've never really been that way around anyone but Shane. I figure most people at Degrassi assume I'm this straight edge Christian girl, so why would they want to drink with me?" Clare shrugged. She wasn't exactly sure what Adam and Eli were getting at.

"Well, Adam here just informed me of a little shindig going on at the Fiona's place this weekend." Eli said.

"Okay…" Clare didn't like where this was going. She had never been to a drunken high school party and had no desire to.

"Fiona bought like a case of champagne and there's a rumor about a keg going around." Adam added.

"Well good for Fiona." Clare muttered while taking a sip from her coffee.

"So, party's on Saturday. We'll pick you up eight!" Eli said with an uncharacteristic brightness.

"That's funny, assuming that I'll just go along with that plan." She said with sarcastic bitterness. There was a reason she avoided these types of functions; there was no telling what her drunken demeanor would be like without Shane there to keep her grounded.

"Oh come on Edwards!" Adam groaned loudly, "You owe us."

"Owe you?" Clare sputtered "What are you talking about?"

Eli turned her head to look into her eyes, "I can't help but think it unfair that the only way we get to see you like _that_ is on video." He leaned in closer to her ear, "I want to see the real thing." He whispered huskily before drawing back and shooting Adam a knowing look.

Clare quirked an eyebrow, "You're trying to get me drunk?" Eli and Adam exchanged panicked looks, reconsidering the effectiveness of their plan. Clare began to laugh.

The older boy shot his girlfriend a curious look, "So, you're on board with this?"

"Why not?" Clare shrugged, easing both boys out of their tension. _Leave it to Saint Clare to give into peer pressure,_ she thought to herself. "As long as I don't have to drink anymore rum."

"Rum?" Adam gasped.

"What'd you think I was drinking? Wine coolers?" Clare asked wryly.

Eli chuckled, "Will you ever fail to surprise me?"

Clare could only smile warily.

* * *

_She could smell the blood from where she stood; large red pools spreading over the cold concrete of the eerily familiar warehouse. Clare looked in horror and confusion at the remnants of her mother soaking in the scarlet mess; a leg here, an arm there, a hand- fingernails painted in a teasing neon fashion._

_Clare reached down and picked up the hand. It was still warm._

"_It's only a matter of time before everything crashes down." A voice called out. Clare turned her head to see Randall walking towards her, leash in hand. She couldn't tell what was chained on the other end of the leash, only that it was attached to something in the dark, out of range from the one working overhead light._

"_I thought I killed you." Clare murmured._

_Randall smiled calmly, "Only in the physical sense, Clare-bear."_

_Another voice rang out from behind Clare, "Soon enough, you'll get what you deserve." She whipped around to see Darcy walking up behind her. Much like her father, the older girl was also holding a leash; whatever was attached to it, remained in the dark._

_Clare rolled her eyes, even dead her sister was full of herself. "And what do I deserve, Darcy?"_

_Darcy shot her cold look, followed by a colder smile. _

"_For your karma to come full circle." Darcy and Randall both began laughing. Clare struggled to look un-phased. She looked down at her mother's severed hand, still in hers._

"_Shall we…release the hounds?" Randall asked his older child. Darcy smirked and threw her end of the leash to the ground, Randall followed in suit._

_He put two fingers to lips, eliciting a sharp whistle. Clare braced herself as two rabid looking dogs emerged from the shadows and began ripping at her flesh and clothes._

"_Get off!" Clare screeched, she winded back her mother's hand and struck one dog over the head. He whimpered and backed off while his companion sunk his teeth into Clare's leg. She screamed in pain and fell to floor as the canine continued biting down and shaking his head from side to side- willing her limb to tear off._

_Randall and Darcy laughed at Clare's futile attempts to save herself. The dog she had struck had re-continued his attack, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of her stomach._

"_Fuck!" she cried out in pain, feeling hot tears cascade down her cheeks. A warm squeezing sensation around her hand averted her attention from the torture. The hand she was holding was no longer drained of color, but glowing with an almost angelic radiance._

_It was also no longer severed at the wrist, but connected to a body, a living body._

"_Maya." A voice whispered. Clare looked up at the woman she never knew, eyes as blue and clear as her own with cinnamon hair that fell into loose waves. For a moment, the pain stopped._

_Clare let out a sob and clenched her eyes shut. She wasn't crying because of the pain or the evil laughter emitting from the ghosts of her last two victims; she was crying for her._

"_Maya, open your eyes." Clare shook her head, screeching as one of the dogs tore into her calf muscle, grazing bone._

"_Listen to your mother, Maya." Randall's victorious voice spat. She could only scream louder as the other dog ripped open her stomach, exposing her quivering insides._

"_Open your eyes."_

Clare snapped awake and pushed the covers of her bed back from her sweaty form. She ran her hands over her legs and stomach; they were still intact, obviously, but they were also covered in scratches. Her fingernails had dead skin and blood stuck underneath them.

She could still smell the blood.

Realizing it was only a horrible dream; Clare let out a shaky breath and fell back against her pillow. A hurried pounding from the hallway alerted her of Helen's impending arrival.

The exhausted woman barged through her bedroom door, "Clare, honey, are you alright? I heard screaming."

Clare rubbed her eyes, "I'm fine. Bad dream, that's all." She shrugged. Helen's shoulders relaxed a bit.

"Oh. Do you need something to help you get back to sleep?"

Clare scoffed, "Like what, a warm glass of milk?" She had no plans of continuing her sleep that night.

Helen pursed her lips slightly at her daughter's coldness, "I was going to suggest maybe a Lunesta or something…" her voice trailed. Clare had a feeling that _something_ referred to antidepressants or a pain killer. She couldn't help but notice her foster mother's zombie-like state recently.

She shook her head, "No, I'm alright. Good night mom." Clare pulled the covers back up to her chin and leaned back.

"Good night, Clare." Helen turned and walked out, closing the door behind softly.

Clare listened to Helen's footsteps grow softer before she whispered to a dark and empty room,

"I wish it had been you."

* * *

**A/N: In case anyone was wondering, this story is fast approaching it's end. I know how I want to end it, just need to get it written; I expect 2, possibly 3 more chapters. Additionally, I am considering the possibility of writing a sequel involving a little Flare (Fitzy/Clare) action. But nothing is set in stone.**

**To those who have been reviewing- thank you. This story hasn't been reeling in a lot of them; but I'm more concerned with quality over quantity.  
**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Chapter 14**

Eli groaned and tossed his controller to the floor as Adam hooted in obnoxious victory. He leaned back on the couch and glared at his friend as the younger boy conducted an impromptu shuffle on the living room floor. It was Friday afternoon and Eli had asked Clare to come over after school, but she gave him some excuse about helping her mom out with a few things. Craving company, he had resorted to inviting Adam over to play video games.

"Alright, you can stop now." Eli spat while rolling his eyes.

Adam ceased his ministrations and quirked his eyebrow, "What's got your skinny jeans in a twist?"

Eli ignored the direct insult to his wardrobe, "Nothing, " he shook his head, "I'm bored, let's do something else."

"Oookay…" Adam could tell that something was on his mind. He set his controller down and turned off the Xbox. He took a seat next to Eli, "Just tell me, man." He sighed.

"It's Clare." Eli croaked.

"Shocker." Adam muttered under his breath. Despite his own burgeoning courtship with Fiona, Adam hadn't failed to notice Clare's aloofness at school. With the all the family problems Clare had been faced with this year (divorce, disappearance, death) , Adam was somewhat surprised she hadn't had a nervous breakdown yet.

"I don't know, man. Like, yesterday after her hangover finally wore off, things were _almost_ back to normal." He played with a loose thread on his shirt, "But today, she just acted and looked so…dead." Eli stammered on the last word. "Not physically dead, but emotionally." He turned to look at Adam, worry etched on his face, "It's distressing."

"Has Clare…talked about her dad or sister?" Adam inquired.

Eli scoffed, "Every time I bring up that subject, she changes it. We're supposed to come to _each other_ with our problems, that's what a relationship is! But I don't know, it's like she can help me with my problems, but she won't even tell me about hers!" he finished, bitterly.

A thought occurred to Adam, "Well, what if she doesn't have any hang-ups on it? I mean, she never talked about her sister, so I can only imagine what their relationship was like. And her dad, well, from what I can tell he kept a pretty short on leash on her."

Eli stared at him in confusion, "What are you trying to say Adam? That she feels nothing over the loss of her family?"

"Well, no, but-"

He cut him off, "Clare's not like that." He said firmly, "She's the most caring I've ever met." He sighed, "the most caring, _stubborn_ person I've met."

Adam swallowed hard, unsure of what to say next. Despite his better judgments, he decided to tread on dangerous territory.

"Not that it's really any of my business, but, how is your uh- physical relationship with Cl-Clare?" he stammered. In recent months, Eli had alluded to things between him and Clare heating up; but as of recently he had not mentioned and intimate conquests with Clare.

Eli fidgeted uncomfortably, "I-uh, haven't really tried anything since everything went down." He pursed his lips, "but I get the feeling that she wants me to."

Adam cleared his throat, "Go on…"

"It's not like I don't want too, but I can't help but feel that doing anything like _that _will have bad results. She's in mourning, Adam." He reminded his friend, "Even if she doesn't show it."

"So you're afraid that by making a move on her she might…what?" Adam asked, "Have some sort of breakdown.'

"I just don't want to push her into anything that she'll end up regretting later. I don't want her to ever have regretful thoughts about me." He finished.

"Well, time heals all wounds." Adam said lamely.

Eli scoffed at his clichéd comment, "Very original Torres."

* * *

Sleep. That was the only thing on Clare's mind. Dreamless, drug-induced sleep that would hopefully remained uninterrupted. But her desire was shot down before she could even step inside her home. An all too familiar blue SUV was parked out front of house. Shane was waiting for her on the stoop.

She sighed, "What are doing here?"

"I need you to help me something, but more importantly, I need to help _you_ with something." Shane answered.

She shook her head, fighting off sleep; "What's that supposed to mean?"

Shane stood up and pulled out his keys, "Get in the car, I'll explain on the way there." He began walking towards his chariot, only to realize that Clare was not following him. "Come on," he goaded, "we don't have much time."

"Time for what?" Clare groaned. This was not how she wanted to spend her afternoon.

"I'll explain on the way over, get in." he said firmly, pointing to the SUV.

"No." Clare answered simply.

"No?" he mimicked her.

"No, I haven't slept in over 36 hours and I'm trying to change that." She turned on her heel and walked up the steps to her house. Shane bounded after he, grabbing her arm firmly.

"Please, I just really need your help with something, it won't take long."

"Shane, I'm exhausted." She reiterated.

Shane smirked and reached into his jacket pocket, "I got something for that." He flung a bag containing white powder at her. Clare raised her eyebrows at his offer, it had been a while since she did coke.

"Bribing me with drugs?" she asked jokingly.

"It's always worked in the past." He pointed out.

Clare sighed and nodded her head in defeat. "Okay, but let's make this fast." Cocaine had always been a rare thing for them; considering the drug's highly addictive lure, Clare always approached the drug with restraint. A couple lines was all it took to understand the drug's appeal; despite the overpowering feeling of alertness and joy the drug brought, Clare made it a point to never seek cocaine, but let it find her.

"Quick and dirty, that's my style." he quipped.

They loaded into Shane's car and drove off. Shane handed her a minuscule spoon which she dipped into the bag and brought to her right nostril, inhaling the fine powder into her system. She did it once more to her other nostril before dabbing a small amount on her finger and spreading over her gums. A delightful numbing sensation took over her mouth and throat as her senses heightened and exhaustion was replaced with a positive energy.

"Feel better?" Shane asked, eyes still on the road.

"Much." Clare smiled, "Where are we going anyway?"

Shane chuckled, "Don't worry. You'll recognize the place." A few minutes later, Shane pulled onto a street that Clare indeed recognized; Shane's old neighborhood. The area itself was not what one would call "ideal real estate", most of the houses were rented to college students and low-income families; quite a few residences were boarded up with aging eviction notices posted on their doors.

The car stopped in front of the house that Shane once shared with his mother; the house where Clare had committed crimes worthy of incarceration and enough sins to guarantee eternity in hell. Luckily in truth, Clare held no beliefs about the afterlife.

"What are we doing here?" she asked

"You'll see." Shane grinned as he hopped out of the car. Clare followed suit and made her way to the front door. Dismantled plywood littered the front porch, a sign that were not intruding on any new occupants.

Shane led her into the house and on the all-too familiar route to the basement. It was too dark to for Clare to see what was down there, but several visible shadows on the wall indicated that he had re-arranged what was left of the furniture. Shane reached up and pulled on the chord to the light, dimly illuminating the room.

Clare let out a rare gasp of shock.

In the middle room was a table that she remembered seeing upstairs in the past, situated in the Newman's rarely used dining room. On top of the table lay an unconscious man, stripped of his clothing and held in place with a generous amount of plastic wrap and duct tape. Underneath the table sat a blue plastic tarp that was normally used for painting indoors.

She turned to Shane who was smiling widely, "Clare, meet Esteban, a soon to be _former_ associate of mine."

"You work for this guy?" she asked.

"No, I worked _with_ him. Esteban never would've made management material in my business; especially since we found out he's been working as a Criminal Informant for the police department. He's willing to bring down dozens of hard working individuals like myself, just so he can get off easy on a few drug charges." Shane explained, "Little bitch couldn't stand the idea of going to prison and keeping and his job when he got out, which is why I was asked to make him disappear by any means necessary." He finished with a sinister smile.

Clare nodded, "So why am I here."

"Because you need this."

"Need what?" she asked with confusion.

Shane reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her towards Esteban's slumbering form. "You need to get back in the swing of things. I know you think I can't tell, but you haven't been yourself lately. You've been distracted by your _other_ life, " he paused. "How long has it been since we put down Randall? A month?"

"Thirty three days." Clare answered. She had been keeping track.

"It's time to move on."Shane said simply. Clare did not need him to explain why. Much like the situation with Darcy, Clare had no real desire to kill Randall. The pent up hostility was something that could be dealt with through insults and youthful defiance; there was no premeditated longing to put either of them in the dirt. Certain circumstance made it necessary.

"Wake him up." Clare ordered. Shane smirked and made his way over to Esteban, Clare followed suit and examined the man before her. He was old, but not that old. Possibly in his late twenties or even early thirties with tan skin and jet black hair that signified his background as a Hispanic man even more than his name. Clare noticed a ball gag strapped around his face, she smirked at Shane.

"Kinky," she commented on the piece.

He smiled at her weakly, "Yep that's me. I'd rather try not to remember where I found it though."

Clare couldn't resist, "Where'd you find it."

He grimaced, "Mom's room." Clare broke in giggles at his expression. He rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Esteban.

Shane slapped him roughly across the face.

"Up and at 'em!" he called out. Esteban's eyes fluttered open and quickly transitioned from confused to panicked, darting back and forth to examine his prison, but the only thing he could see was the ceiling.

Shane handed her a meat cleaver he must've scavenged from the kitchen. It's blade was noticeably dull and the wooden handle was cracked in several places.

"We need to make this fast, no time to exchange pleasnetries and hollow threats." He told her, "I rented a boat earlier today for easy disposal. I have to get the keys back by sundown." He finished, somewhat frantically.

Clare nodded. "No sense in wasting time." She agreed. She planted her feet shoulder width apart and brought the cleaver above her head. Esteban's eyes widened as he tried to shake his head free from the tape that secured it to the table. Muffled wails could be heard behind the ball-gag in his mouth. She brought it down fast and hard on his throat.

Blood spurted out from the wound, hitting both teens with it's spray. "Fuck!" Shane exclaimed, "We should've worn ponchos."

Clare, who was still dressed in her uniform, wasn't as upset. She just made a mental note to dispose of it later; she had three more sets just like it at home.

"Good job." Shane nodded while examining the stains on his t-shirt.

"What next?"

Shane handed her a pair of yellow dish washing gloves and a hacksaw. "Disassemble, pack and dispose." He said softly.

* * *

Clare dropped the last garbage bag into the water below, watching it's shadow become enveloped into the darkness that was Lake Ontario. She turned to Shane, who was watching her with a look that could only be described as infinite sadness.

"What?" she questioned.

"I know I must've asked this question a thousand times by now, " Clare sighed heavily, knowing what this was all about, "but, why can't we be together."

"You bring out the worst in me." Clare reminded him.

"No," Shane shook his head, "I bring out the _truth_ in you." He turned away and took his seat behind the steering wheel, revving the boat's engine back to life.

Clare bit her lip and took a seat in the chair next to Shane, wrapping the wool jacket he had lent her tight around her frame. The sun was threatening to go down and air on the lake was about twenty degrees lower than on land. They had decided to burn their blood soaked clothing after chopping up Esteban. Clare had raided what was left of Mrs. Newman's closet, pleasantly surprised by the selection of clothing better suited to twenty-something year olds than a middle aged mom. She had opted for a pair of dark skinny jeans, white v-neck shirt, a pair of battered grey Keds and one of Shane's flannel shirts.

Shane broke the silence, "You don't have to do this to yourself."

"Do what?"

"Everything," he said pushing a stray hair from his eyes, "Living the way you do; if you think about it, it's not really your life to live. It's the life Randall forged for you." Shane explained.

Clare narrowed her eyes at him, "I don't have anything besides _this_ life and-" she stopped.

"And what?" Shane pressed.

"And shattered pieces of the one I _used_ to have. Pieces that I rather not deal with."

"You mean that dream you sometimes have?" Shane was the only one besides Randall who knew about the dreams. He could level with her more so than Randall on the subject; Shane himself was the victim of night terrors recounting his father's live cremation.

"I found out that he changed my name."

"Just as I always thought, the identity of Clare Edwards is one that was born out of the dark." Shane said in a faked thoughtful tone. Clare chuckled at his attempt to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, my biological mother named me Maya."

Shane nodded in appreciation, "Maya- I like that, it's pretty." He said genuinely. "Not as pretty as you but-"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Newman." Clare said in a faked harshness. Shane laughed lightly.

"But seriously, think about it. You could just…leave all this behind," his voice was thoughtful, luring, "Pack a bag, hop a freighter, hitch a ride, hijack a plane, whatever." He rambled on, "The one person who had you tied down to this life is dead." He pointed out, "We both know Helen isn't worth wasting your time on. She has nothing left, and you were never really hers to begin with."

"I can't just leave, Shane." Clare sighed, although she could admit to herself that idea was appealing.

"Can't…or won't?" Shane asked teasingly. The marina was now in sight, Shane slowed the boat down to a near stop; the only thing pushing them along was the current. He turned towards his best friend. "You'd be better off, less stressed. You're smart enough to get by without a diploma and I could put you in contact with some people who could help you out with money."

Clare groaned, "I am _not_ having sex for money, Shane."

Shane scoffed, "Not that."

"I'm not selling drugs for money." Clare corrected herself.

"Good, because I think you would make a better mercenary." He said seriously. He pushed the throttle forward and gently steered the boat into the marina, next to the rentals dock.

"Let's just drop the subject." Clare said while hopping onto the dock from the boat. Shane tossed her the boat's docking line; she tied it to a post while Shane turned off the boat and collected his things. He joined her on the dock, walking side by side towards land.

"Just think about, okay?" Shane's voice was completely serious. "You don't have resort to a life of crime, but you would be better off-"

"By leaving Toronto, the only home I've ever known?" Clare asked huffily. Shane stopped in his tracks, placing the boat keys in the return box attached to the vacant rentals booth. He turned to her, blank faced and calm.

"No-" Shane said firmly, " by being who you really are."

Clare sighed, "It's not that I'm afraid to be who I am, I just know it won't end well. It _never_ ends well."

Shane smirked knowingly, "Haven't gotten caught yet have you?"

"I have told you about Scruffy, right?" she asked, annoyed with Shane's persistence.

"Only about fifty times." He groaned. Clare's disposal of Scruffy was an innocent accident in Shane's eyes; he had killed his fair share of pets before meeting her. Anyone else would've read it as a cry for help, a signifier of something dark.

"Take me home, Shane."she mumbled, growing bored of their conversation. And he did just that.

* * *

Shane pulled up in front of Clare's empty house and turned to her. "Thanks for helping me out." He said softly.

"Thanks for forcing me to come." Clare smiled back, her mood had turned around during the silent car ride home. She wasn't quite sure why. Shane's revelation had opened not a new door for her per-see, but rather shined light on an option she had never considered. All she needed was the gall and motivation to go through with it. Every part of the mask was slowly slipping away, her family, her forged faith, Eli. But Shane, and his unique understanding of her, remained constant.

But as long as she did have Eli in her life (and things didn't go sour between them), there were no plans of desertion.

"See? Just what you needed right?" he grinned knowingly.

"Shut up." Clare laughed. Shane joined in on her laughter, even though there was really nothing funny about what they had just done. Their laughs slowed into chuckles and then relieved sighs. Shane looked over and began to lean in across the seat.

Clare surprised even herself by mimicking Shane's movements; their faces met over the center consul of the car, lips meeting with a softness that was uncharacteristic for both of them in this situation.

Shane's heart fluttered with anticipation, expecting Clare to pull back and deliver a punch to his face; but it never happened. Clare moved her lips against his, breaking through his mouth with her tongue; and then- all hell broke loose.

Their oral ministrations went from soft to intense, tongues working against each other as Clare dug her fingers in Shane's hair and pulled hard. Shane moaned and placed his hands on her waist, over the center consul. In the past, their intimacy had never been worthy of the label "soft", but their current actions were almost going too far in its intensity. She wasn't sure if they were kissing or trying gnaw each other's faces off.

He took her bottom lip between his teeth and Clare pulled back; before he could even question her, Clare had unbuckled herself and crawled over the center consul, straddling his lap. Shane took the hint and pushed his seat so that her ass wasn't resting on the steering wheel. Their mouths found each other again, even harder than before.

Shane, feeling somewhat daring, reached up between them and cupped her breasts firmly. When she didn't pull away, he began massaging them, being sure to run his thumbs over her clothed nipples. He was rewarded by a low moan that Clare released into his mouth as she began rocking her hips back and forth over his growing hardness.

It was like Shane had spotted the bubble of unreleased sexual tension insider her and smashed it with a hammer. Eli had never kissed her so aggressively, _ever_. Not even before her life started to crash down around her. That thought appeared to Clare as Shane began moving his hand up her shirt.

Reluctantly, she broke her mouth away from his and stopped his hands from going any farther. Shane met her eyes, breathing just as heavily as her. He gave a questioning look, unsure if he should apologize or yell at her for leading him on. He was relieved (and confused) when Clare gave him a sad smile and lifted herself off of his lap, turning her body back into the passenger seat.

Shane took a deep breath, "Well," he said, nodding, "that was fun." Clare looked over at him with a mixture of confusion and smugness as the car grew silent. Without warning, they both broke into hilarious laughter. Clare couldn't help but notice the front windows had managed to fog up; she wasn't even aware they had been kissing that long.

She hit the defrost button on the dashboard, "Don't get used to it." She smirked.

"Sad to hear it." Shane said, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice with a teasing tone.

Clare chuckled and shook her head, "I just kind of…needed that and Eli-"

He cut her off, "You don't have to explain anything. I know he's been holding out on you lately."

"Hah, yeah. Fuckin' tease." Clare joked. Shane snickered as she smoothed out her clothes and opened the passenger door.

"Thanks again." She smiled, "The basement, the lake, just now- I really needed it." She reiterated, making sure he felt appreciated.

"Not even going to thank me for the drugs?" he teased. Clare rolled her eyes playfully and closed the door. Shane shot her one last smile from the driver's seat and drove off. She walked up to her front door, while fishing for her house keys in her shoulder bag; the sun had gone down and the only light source available were the ancient street lamps on her street.

Clare cursed under her breath as she set her bag on the front steps and knelt down to conduct a more through search. Had she left them in Shane's car? Just as the thought occurred, a distinctive blow of a car horn diverted her attention; but the honk did not emit from a blue SUV, but rather a vintage hearse.

"E-Eli?" Clare stammered as the boy in question got out of the car and quickly made his way towards her.

From his lips came four words that no one, anywhere, in any form of a relationship wanted to hear:

"We need to talk."

* * *

**Haha cliffhanger. Don't jump. Next installment will be up soon**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Chapter 15**

"_We need to talk."He said with unrestricted firmness. _

Clare, knowing that his statement was just, nodded and turned her attention to the small plotted plant next to the door. Abandoning the search for her own house key, she fished the spare from beneath the pot and unlocked the door, leading Eli to the couch in the living room.

Eli sat down next her, allowing a few inches of space between their bodies. He kept his head forward.

"Why don't you trust me?" he croaked.

"What?" Since _when_ had trust become a problem for them? Once again, Clare found herself in a state of confusion from Eli's words.

"Why don't you trust me like I trust you?" Eli turned his head to her. Even in the darkened room, Clare could make out his glistening green eyes, threatening to leak.

Tentatively, she reached out and grabbed his hand, "Why would you ever think that?"

"Because I've opened up to you about Julia and how losing her took its toll on my life, "he paused, "but you never really talk about Darcy or your Dad, or what it's like to have them gone."

"I-," Clare paused, completely unsure of what to say. She let go of Eli's hand squared his body away from him. What was going on? In the course of five minutes, she had gone from dry humping Shane to sitting through an uncomfortable confrontation with the boy she had just technically cheated on. She could feel a sense of guilt in the pit of her stomach; despite her Catholic upbringing, guilt was never really an issue for Clare, she could easily fake it.

But _feeling_ actual guilt was a devastating sensation all on its own.

"Clare?" Eli's voice broke her from her thoughts. She had been still and silent for nearly a minute, causing Eli to grow even more anxious. He sighed, "If something is bothering you, you can tell me. Don't make me pry it out of, Clare" he warned. "I don't want you to hide _anything_ from me."

His words struck a hard chord within her. "It's just-" she exhaled harshly, " different."

"What's different?"

"Our situations, they're completely different." She finished. Eli's face started to grow hard; realizing what she had just said, she touched his shoulder and said, "just hear me out, Eli."

She could tell he didn't want to. She could tell that what he really wanted to do was jump up and scream at her, call her a selfish and judgmental bitch. Perhaps accuse of not taking their relationship seriously.

"From what you've told me, the relationship you had with Julia is completely different from the ones I had with my family. You guys were in love," she sighed, "and the reason why you were so affected by her death was because of the closeness you shared."

Eli held back a sniffle, Clare continued on;

"Things between me and Darcy, like I said before, were never ideal. We fought like siblings fought, but when she disappeared, things just didn't seem," she swallowed back a fake choke, "that different. And as for dad, well," she let out a sigh.

"I think I lost him shortly after Darcy left for Africa; that's when my parent's marriage began to fall apart. He just wasn't my father anymore; he was some guy who occasionally ate dinner at my house and argued and with mom." She decided to take a risk and leaned her body into Eli's.

She was met with a warm arm wrapping around her, bringing her form against his.

"Don't you see? I lost both of them long before they died." Clare whispered. "Death was merely a formality."

"Oh Clare." Eli sighed, bringing his arm to lock around her, entrapping her in his warmth. Clare managed to choke up a few tears, tears that were now staining Eli's shirt.

"I'm sorry if I come off as completely heartless." She mumbled into his chest. Eli pulled back and looked at her.

"You could never be heartless in my eyes. Never." He assured her. Clare thanked him with a soft kiss on the lips before nestling her head back into his chest.

He rubbed her back in calming circles, "What do you need me to do, Clare?" he whispered into her ear.

Clare looked up at him with hopeful eyes, "Stay with me tonight?"

"But your mom-"

"Is away for the weekend visiting family." She interjected. Eli's look of concern shifted into a small smirk. "It's just- we haven't done anything _together_ in a while," she said, referring to the lack of physical heat between them recently. "I miss that."

"Are you sure your ready to…" he paused, trying to choose his words correctly,"..do that stuff again?"

Clare refrained herself from rolling her eyes, "Yes, I'm sure."

Eli's hesitant look melted into his trademark smirk, "Well then lead the way, my lady." Clare giggled and grabbed his hand, bounding upstairs to her room.

* * *

Eli surprised her by slamming the door behind them with a loud bang. Before she could even tease him about his eagerness, his mouth was covering hers with a ferocity that he hadn't showed in over a month. Clare moaned into his mouth with approval as he leaned their bodies onto her bed, pinning her wrists down as well.

He tore his mouth away from her lips and places wet kisses from her jaw line to her neck; his hips grinded into her center creating a pleasant friction for both of them.

Clare gasped and leaned her head back, making sure to meet his thrusts with her own hips. "Looks like I'm not the only one who wanted to do this." She mumbled, amused.

Eli lifted his head to meet her gaze, "You have no idea." He purred, crashing his lips back to hers for a short, but hard kiss.

He moved his hands from her restrained wrists and grasped her hips, giving her a few hard thrusts before gliding his hands up the front of her t-shirt. Clare leaned forward and shrugged off the flannel shirt Shane had lent her, throwing it the floor. Eli quickly pulled her t-shirt over her head and gave her a lacy bra and appreciative look before reaching up to massage what lay beneath it.

He leaned forward and tugged at her earlobe with his teeth, "New clothes?" he whispered while sliding his hands down to unbutton her jeans. Clare's breath hitched, she was hoping he would pay no attention to her unfamiliar outfit scrounged out of a dead women's closet. But she already knew the perfect lie.

"Darcy's." She murmured. Before Eli could react with any potential awkwardness, she reached down and squeezed his arousal through his pants earning her an appreciative moan.

Eli gazed at her through half-lidded eyes and pushed her back to a lying position, unclasping the front hook of her bra. He lowered his head to her heaving breasts, latching on to one nipple while pinching and pulling the other with his skilled fingers. Clare moaned and ran her hands over his back, pulling up the hem of shirt to get in contact with his skin. She dug her fingernails into his flesh, dragging her hands up back to his shoulders where his black t-shirt was bunched up.

He groaned at the sensation and rose up to tear the annoying garment over his head. He gave the half-naked girl beneath him a sinister grin and pulled her jeans and panties down to her ankles. Clare kicked off her sneakers while Eli removed her bunched-up pants and underwear from her ankles, tossing them over his shoulder.

Clare made a reach for his belt, but he grabbed her wrists before she even feel the cool metal of his belt buckle.

"Eli!" she wined in annoyance. It had been far too long since she saw his body.

The boy in question smirked while pushing her back to the bed.

"I think it's only fair that I take care of your needs first." He purred before plunging a finger inside of her.

"Ah!" Clare squealed when his thumb began circling her clit with rapid speed.

"Fuck, Clare. You're so tight!" Eli grinned wildly. Clare shuddered as he added a second finger to the mix.

"Whose fault is that?" she asked mockingly. Eli cocked his eyebrow knowingly.

"You could have always taken care of it yourself." He reminded her with a wry grin.

Clare shot him a hot look, "I tried. It's not the same, your fingers are way bigger."

Eli's jaw dropped, "God, that is so hot." He murmured. An idea popped up in his head, he withdrew his hand, earning a disappointed groan from Clare.

"Touch yourself for me, Clare." Eli whispered firmly.

Clare rolled her eyes at his boyish antics. "Maybe later."

"How much later?" he asked hopefully. Clare gave him a hard kiss on the mouth.

"We'll see what we have time for." She whispered against his lips. "Now get back to work, Goldsworthy."

Eli smirked and happily obliged her.

* * *

A rustling beside her awoke Clare from her slumber the next morning. She rolled over on her side only to find the spot next to her empty. She looked up to the end of the bed where Eli's naked back was turned towards her as he pulled on his boxers.

"Well that's a nice sight to wake up to." She chirped. Startled, Eli spun around to meet her smirk with one of his own.

"Sorry I woke you, not sorry for the view though." He shrugged while slipping into his jeans.

Clare giggled, "No reason to be." Eli grinned and jumped onto the bed, positioning himself to straddle her waist. "What's with all the clothes?" she asked teasingly.

"It's almost noon." Eli pointed out.

"So?"

"So? I plan on raging tonight, but it's going to happen on only like four hours of sleep."

"The party doesn't start till what? Nine? Just sleep here." Clare said, pulling him down for a kiss.

Eli relented before pulling away, "I tried that, but lying next to you, naked, _somehow _distracts me from sleep." He winked at her. Clare grinned at the memory of the previous night. "I'm gonna head home, get a few _solid_ hours in." He emphasized the word solid, seeing as the two of them alternated between sleeping, cuddling, and getting each other off all night.

"Ugh fine, be that way." Clare said pretending to be mad. With Eli still straddling her, she fell back against her pillow and pulled the comforter over her head. Eli laughed and pulled the covers back, planting a kiss on her lips before jumping off the bed.

"You should get some sleep too." He said knowingly while pulling on his shirt. "I want to see you in full force tonight."

"Oh you will." Clare said in a seemingly convincing voice.

Eli grabbed his jacket and shoes before opening the door and turning back to Clare, "Call me when you're ready to be picked up." Clare nodded and Eli closed the door behind him. She lay in bed, listening to his footsteps pound down the stairs before exiting out the front.

Clare resumed her sleep, awaking a few hours later. She rolled out of bed and trudged over to her dresser, pulling out clean undergarments, a v-neck and a pair of shorts. She dressed herself and feeling a little cold, grabbed Shane's flannel from its place on the floor and shrugged it on.

She glanced at her watch, it was a little after four, meaning she had plenty of time before she had to shower and get dressed for the party that she had no desire to go to. With nothing better to do, she grabbed her hollowed out bible from it's place on her shelf and began rolling a joint.

Just as she was searching for a lighter, a pinging sound against her window caught her attention. She set the joint down and walked over to inspect the disturbance. Parked in front of her house was Shane's SUV, he was standing on her lawn, looking up.

Clare opened her window and stuck her head out and yelled, "What are you doing here?"

"I got bored." Shane yelled back. Clare rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. She was actually somewhat pleased by Shane's surprise visit.

"I'll be down in a minute." She closed the window and grabbed the joint off her desk. Sticking it behind her ear, she bounded down the steps and opened the door for Shane.

"Nice shirt." He smirked as he made his way past her. Clare shut the door.

"Don't worry, I'll return it eventually."

"No, no; my gift to you." He said teasingly. "That way you'll always have part of me with you."

Clare laughed at his cheesiness, "Wow, I'm honored."

Shane grinned and noticed the joint stuck behind her ear, he reached up and grabbed it."For me?" he asked.

"For us." Clare corrected with a smile. "Light it up, no need to worry about the smell. Helen's gone for the weekend."

"Interesting, " Shane muttered with the joint between his teeth. He pulled out his lighter and torched the end. "Have you been behaving yourself?" he asked teasingly, through a puff of smoke.

Clare grinned, "Eli spent the night."

"Oh, really? Did you do the deed?" They walked over to the couch and sat down. Shane dropped his backpack on the floor, kicking his legs up on the coffee table.

She shook her head, "Nope, only the some of the steps, not the whole shabang." He nodded, handing her the joint.

"Hah, Shabang." He said to himself.

Clare took a hit of the joint and eyed him, "Di you smoke before you came here?"

"Yep."

She exhaled a cloud of smoke in his face, "It shows."

Shane chuckled, plucking the joint from her fingers, "So how was it? Being man-handled for a night after being ignored for a month?"

"Very satisfying."

"Is he better than me?" Shane asked in mock seriousness.

Clare laughed, "I refuse to participate in your silly male comparison games."

Shane looked at her coolly, exhaling a stream of smoke, "Come on, humor me."

"You're both very good with your hands, let's leave it at that." She smiled.

Shane rolled his eyes and passed her the joint. He leaned over the side of the couch and pulled his backpack onto his lap, unzipping it. He pulled out a bottle of gin.

"Drink?" he asked, waggling the bottle in front of her face.

"I'm going to a party later, you know that." Clare reminded him.

"Come on, Edwards. When was the last time you went on a good bender?" he pressed.

"Already forgot about our adventure in the park, I see?" Clare shot back.

"Pre-game?" Shane offered. Clare shot him a wry look. "Come on, I'm not asking you to get blitzed. Two maybe three drinks if you're feeling it."

"Fine," Clare relented. "A couple drinks and that's it. I still have to shower and get dressed." Clare led him into the kitchen where she grabbed two glasses out of the cupboard and filled them with ice. She set them down on the counter and turned back to the fridge. Shane cracked open the bottle and poured equal amounts of gin in both glasses.

"What do you want with yours? We don't have any club soda, only juice."

"What are you having with yours?" Shane asked over his shoulder.

"Grapefruit juice." Clare responded while rearranging a few things in the fridge. Shane turned around, making sure her back was turned. He pulled a ziplock bag containing several pastel colored pills out of his pocket and dropped one into the glass meant for Clare.

"Sounds good to me." He turned around as Clare shut the door to the fridge. Before she could get a glance at the glasses, Shane plucked the bottle of juice from her hands and spun back around to finish mixing the drinks.

He picked up both glasses, making sure to hold the one with the pill in it away from his body, offering it to Clare.

"Cheers." He grinned tapping his glass against hers and taking a healthy swig. Clare did the same.

Shane smiled to himself as Clare licked her lips, "What?" she asked, getting a look at his face.

"Oh, nothing." He decided to distract her attention with something else, "So when you and the prince of darkness, " Clare scoffed at the nickname for her boyfriend, "finally decide to so the horizontal monster mash, have you figured what form of contraception you'll use?"

Clare cocked an eyebrow, "Why is that any of your business?"

"I just thought it be right to point out that his sperm count has probably been severely diminished as a result of those nut-crunching skinny jeans I always see him in." he smirked.

Clare gave him an annoyed look before bursting into laughter. "Stop checking out my boyfriend's package." She teased.

"Tell your boyfriend to stop putting his package on display for the entire world." He shot back. They shared a laugh and finished off their drinks. They shared one last drink before Clare took a look at her watch and told Shane she had to take a shower and get dressed.

"Don't wear anything too revealing." He teased. Clare brushed him off and made her way to the stairs.

"I trust you can show yourself out?" she called down to him.

"You can trust me with anything." He responded, wearing a small smirk that she couldn't see.

* * *

_**A/N: Any guesses about what Shane slipped in her drink? Love to hear your theories.**_

_**Either way, you'll find out next chapter…**_


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**A/N: Ha, this chapter was fun to write.**

**Chapter 16**

It started while she stood under the stream of hot water; an odd feeling of heightened awareness and energy despite few hours of sleep. Clare blamed it on the alcohol and allowed herself to enjoy the pleasant heat of the shower, soaking her skin with a feeling of cleanliness and satisfaction.

She turned off the water and quickly dried herself off, noticing that her towel somehow felt softer than usual, like someone had emptied a gallon of fabric softener in the laundry. She wrapped the fabric around her form and headed into her closet to choose an outfit.

After examining her wardrobe, she pulled out a sleek, light grey scooped-neck dress that stopped just above her knees and a black belt to cinch around her waist. Black flats and Darcy's old brown leather jacket completed the ensemble.

She fingered the smooth material of the dress, reveling in it's silky texture. It was almost difficult for her to drop the hem and focus on getting ready. She pulled out her make-up kit and took a seat in front of her bedroom mirror.

The reflection she saw in the mirror shocked her; her pupils were enormous, nearly taking over her entire eye. Only a small rim of her blue iris could be seen against the enlarged black area in the center of her eye. She began to panic, this wasn't the first time her pupils had blown up to the size of saucers, but in the past there was always a reason for it. Drug use.

The heightened sensations of touch that she had been feeling suddenly all made sense.

"What the fuck!" she blurted out. She leaned in closer to the mirror to get a better look. Light laughter could be heard from downstairs. Startled, she jumped up from her seat, almost falling down when a wave of exhilaration struck her core. It was like somebody was setting and extinguishing a fire inside of her all at once.

With an aggravated growl, Clare stormed out of her room and down the stairs. She was unsurprised to find Shane, sitting on her couch nursing another drink.

"What did you give me?" she barked.

"I gave you what you needed." he replied coolly. Clare shook her head and stormed over to where he sat. She clenched a handful of his thick locks in her fist.

"What. Did. You. Give. Me?" She enunciated angrily while shaking his head back in forth.

"Alright, you need to calm down!" Shane growled as he tore her hands from his head and stood up to look her in the eye.

"Don't you tell me to calm down! This isn't a joke, what did give me?" Clare cried.

Shane fished a joint out of his shirt pocket and lit it, taking a drag before forcing it into her unwilling mouth. "Just smoke, and everything will be fine."

Clare coughed around the joint before taking a quick drag and removing it from her lips. "Shane?" she pleaded.

"Don't worry, it's just ecstasy." He shrugged.

Clare could feel her body shaking as panic overtook her mind. "Are you out of your head? I can't be like this right now!"

"What you mean? You're going to a party, that's the perfect place to roll." Shane argued.

"I can't believe you fuckin' drugged me." Clare groaned, covering her eyes with her palm.

"Well there are worst drugs I could've given you. Keep that in mind." Shane said bitterly.

"Fuck!" Clare repeated to herself. She fell back against the couch, slightly overwhelmed at its unyielding softness. She braced her hands on the seat of the couch and took deep, calming breaths.

Shane gave her a sympathetic look and sat down on the coffee table across from her. He took the forgotten joint from her fingers and took a slow drag. Clare lifted her head up slightly to see what he was doing. Shane removed the joint from his mouth and cupped her chin, bringing her in to meet his lips. The mouths collided softly, both sets of lips parting to allow a stream of smoke to flow from his lungs down into hers.

He moved back and smiled as Clare exhaled a smooth trail of smoke.

"Listen to me," he ordered softly, "the last thing you want to do right now is freak out, you know that. Let's not act like you haven't done this before."

"True, but I've never dropped E unwillingly before." She countered.

"Doesn't matter; just go through with your night as planned, and I promise you it will be ten times better than you ever expected."

Clare looked unconvinced, "I can't be on drugs at a high school booze-fest. It's like throwing an astronaut into a jungle."

Shane chuckled at her analogy, but stopped when he realized the repercussions of his actions. He knew what Clare's plans were and he knew the ill effects of being the lone "tripper" in a room full of drunks. The experience was both horrifying and aggravating. His intentions in drugging Clare were to mainly get a rise out of her, now that that particular phase had passed, he felt oddly guilty about what he had done.

"How about this?" he projected while fishing the ziplock bag out of his pocket. He removed a single pill from the bunch. "You won't be completely alone." And with that, he popped the pill in his mouth and swallowed.

Clare looked somewhat bewildered. "Was this all part of some sort of plan?"

"Sort of. I never planned on taking it myself, I was just going to offer to be your sober sitter." Clare shot him a knowing look, "well okay, your drunk sober sitter." He grinned.

She eased his guilt by allowing herself to laugh.

"I still have to go to that party you know." She reminded him. "Shit, I just remembered. Eli is supposed to pick me up! I can't let him see me like this!" she gushed.

"Relax, you look really hot tonight." Shane pointed out, completely missing the meaning of her words. Clare rolled her eyes. "So text your boyfriend and tell him you'll meet him there, I want to feel the cool night's air on my skin as I rise into euphoria." He finished with mock poetic prowess.

"So…you wanna walk?" Clare asked, pretending to be confused.

"Precisely."

* * *

They could hear the music pumping from Fiona's apartment from their place on the sidewalk below. Clare could feel the chemicals pumping in her system, threatening to reach it's peak- which depending on her atmosphere would either result in euphoria or disaster.

Shane was coming up quickly behind Clare in terms of the ecstasy's effect. He looked up at the building before him with a haunting grin. He wore a look that displayed his happiness as well as a challenging glare to the occupants who stood inside. His eyes were dilated beyond belief, paired with his thick tousled hair and military jacket gave him the appearance of a deranged war veteran, reliving the glory of battle in a misguided hallucination.

Clare had sent a text to Eli, informing him that she was running late and would just meet him at the party. Along their walk, she could feel the vibrations of his response(s) emitting from her purse; she ignored it.

"You ready?" Shane asked, not tearing his eyes from the structure in front of him.

"No." Clare answered truthfully, "But that doesn't matter." She led him up the steps, making their way past the glass doors. As they ascended the stairs to Fiona's floor, an impending suspense racked both their systems. Clare could almost feel herself becoming higher and higher as they climb further up the stairway.

Finally, they reached their destination.

They stood there for a moment, listening to the muffled music and shouts from the other side. With one final glance of reassurance, Clare reached up and knocked on the door.

The door almost burst off its hinges as the _last_ person that Clare would ever expect to see at Fiona Coyne's apartment stood before her, grinning wildly, drink in hand.

"Saint Clare!" Bianca screeched while lunging at the unsuspecting girl, crushing her in an excited hug. "I was wondering when you were gonna show your crazy ass here!"

Clare found herself laughing hysterically at the older girl's antics, leaning into her to balance her shaking core. Who would've ever thought Bianca DeSousa could change her mood from panicked to amazing, and not the other way around?

"You alright there, kiddo?" Bianca chuckled, noticing her unsteady form.

Clare found it within herself to compose her demeanor, "I'm great, actually. How are you, Bianca?" she asked in satiric polite tone.

Bianca burst out laughing at her fast transition. "You're a trip and a half, Edwards." She smiled at her, getting a close look at her eyes. "Oh my god, you're even on a trip! Edwards you're crazy!" Bianca bounced up and down, drunkenly.

"Keep it on the D.L. though, okay? You know how _some _people get when they're around someone on drugs." Clare pleaded, knowing that Bianca could relate.

"I hear you on that. Come on, let's get you a drink." She wrapped an arm around Clare's shoulders and glanced back at Shane. "Hey! It's that guy!" she chirped happily. Before Clare could even ask her not to mention what she knew about her Shane's history, Bianca had started pushing Clare along into the crowded apartment.

Clare was relieved to see no one else she knew...yet. Most of the people she could make out against the strobe lights were nameless faces she saw everyday in the halls of Degrassi, but never interacted with.

Bianca herded her into the kitchen, Shane close on their heels. The drunk girl sloppily grabbed at the assorted bottles of liquor and juices, haphazardly spilling them into two plastic cups. She offered them to the younger teens before pouring a shot for herself.

"Bottoms up!" she chided knocking back her shot glass like it was filled with liquid candy.

Clare took a healthy swig of her drink, pleasantly surprised by its sweet taste.

"What are you guys on anyway?" Bianca asked.

"X." Shane grinned with a nod.

"Nice." Bianca said waggling her brows, "The love drug."

Clare snorted, "I thought that was Rohypnol." Bianca and Shane both cracked up wildly.

"Enough chit chat, let's see your moves, Edwards." Bianca slurred, grabbing the collar of her jacket and leading her to the cleared out living room where drunken party-goers were writhing to the music provided by Sav Bhandari on the turntable.

Surrounded by unfamiliar and nonthreatening faces; Clare let herself go, moving her body in time with the beat. Bianca matched her moves with a challenging playfulness, grinning wildly and shaking her hair to the thumping base. Clare glanced over at Shane who seemed to be entrapped in his own world, dancing by himself in a crowd full of people.

Undoubtedly, Clare had reached a plateau in the drug's power; up at the top with no sign of descending back to earth anytime soon. It was like the energy of the room combined with the driving base of the music was scouring through her veins. She could do no wrong. Her dance moves became less restrained and more aggressive, her body now working separately from her brain. Bianca shot her an impressed look.

"Sweet moves, Saint Clare!" she screeched while never ceasing her dancing. She threw an arm over back over her shoulder which accidentally collided with head of another girl. The stricken girl whirled around, her face painted in anger and annoyance. Clare's smile dropped from her face at the sight of Fiona Coyne staring hard at Bianca; Adam was close behind her.

"Excuse me!" Fiona snapped, she took a look at Bianca, "Did I even invite you?" she asked haughtily.

"No." Bianca smirked, "But I can't resist a good party. Especially when it's paid for by trust fund money."

"Tramp." Fiona spat, her eyes caught Clare, staring at the scene with interest. "Clare! There you are! Eli's been looking all over for you!" she said excitedly. "Oh my god, I love your outfit!" she gushed.

"Uh, thanks?" Clare offered. She suddenly felt very insecure under the penetrating gaze of her friends.

"Where have you been?" Adam asked, "Oh, and are you drunk yet?" he added expectantly.

"Hah, she's something." Bianca muttered under her breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fiona snapped, attempting to defend Clare, "And why are you still here? Get out!"

Clare felt the urge to walk away from the heated encounter. "I'm gonna go find Eli." She said quickly before hurrying off, Shane shadowing her. Bianca rolled her eyes at the hostess of the evening before walking off in another direction.

"Wait a minute," Fiona said to Adam. "Who's that guy with Clare?"

Adam craned his head over the crowd of people to get a better look at Clare's accomplice; his face was somewhat familiar to Adam. It had been a while since he last saw the guy, but there was no mistaking who it was.

"Oh no." he muttered, grabbing Fiona's hand and making their way through the crowd. "Eli's going to be _pissed_."

* * *

Eli must've covered every square foot of Fiona's apartment several times during his search for Clare. He had texted her multiple times asking about her status and he was beyond worried at this point. He cursed himself for not just going to her house and waiting for her to get ready. They would've made it to the party late, but they would've been together.

He groaned in annoyance as he retraced his steps once more to his starting point in the kitchen. He saw Alli leaning against the counter, chatting up Drew.

"Hey!" he called out to the Indian girl, "Have you seen Clare around yet?"

Alli shot him a confused look, "You mean she didn't come with you?"

"No, she woke up late and said she'd just meet me here." He explained. "I'm starting to get anxious." He admitted, but in reality he had been anxious since walking through the door.

Drew spoke up, "I'm pretty sure I saw her in the living room, but I might've been mistaken."

Eli and Alli eyed him skeptically. "What do you mean by that?" Eli pressed.

Drew cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Well it definitely looked like her, but this girl was all buddy-buddy with Bianca," Alli growled, "Clare doesn't seem like the type of girl to get along with-

"That slut." Alli finished for him in a bitter voice.

"Alli." Drew sighed. Eli pondered Drew's words; if Clare really was here it was a load off his shoulders. But if she was indeed hanging out with Bianca, then something must've been wrong. Like maybe she was too drunk to see who she was talking to.

Eli's thoughts were interrupted by Adam's frantic voice, "Eli!" he grabbed his friend by the shoulder.

"What's wrong? Have you seen Clare yet?" he asked.

"Yeah man, she's here but-"

"Where is she?" Eli questioned.

"I don't know, she was just in the other room-" with that, Eli stormed off before Adam could tell him about Shane. Fiona walked up to the group.

"Adam, you never told me, who was that guy?" Fiona asked again.

"What guy?" Alli asked, feeling excluded.

Adam sighed, "He's just some kid Clare used to go to school with. Eli hates him for some reason."

"Should he?" Fiona asked. Adam shrugged his shoulders.

"It's hard to tell."

* * *

Clare and Shane made their way over to the far side of the apartment where fewer people were gathered. Her heart was pounding at a rapid rate, adrenaline striking her senses and movements; she suddenly felt very bored and anxious in the less energetic area.

Shane put his hand on the handle to glass door leading to a balcony, "I need to smoke a cigarette after that, want to come?"

She shook her head, "No thanks."

"Fine, disregard fresh air for a stuffy apartment." Shane shrugged, stepping out and sliding the door behind him. Clare watched him through the glass as he lit his cigarette. He noticed her watching and proceeded to make a series of rude gestures and faces. She chuckled and gave him an evil smirk before drawing the curtains closed.

Her hands skimmed along the material of the curtains, reveling in it's amazing softness. It was like she was actually really feeling fabric for the first time. Everything she touched seemed to emit something incredible. She giggled to herself at the thought while rubbing the fabric between her fingertips.

Turning around, she spotted a darkly clothed figure darting the room, pushing past people with frantic force- Eli. The idea of joining Shane outside was suddenly very appealing, but before she could even turn around, he had spotted her.

"Clare!" he called out. Clare couldn't stop herself from smiling at him; he just looked so…appealing at that very moment. A look of relief washed over his face. "There you are, I've been looking all over for you." He said softly.

"Likewise," Clare murmured (even if it was an absolute lie). She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He obliged her by lowering his hungry lips to hers. While their mouths moved in time, Clare ran her hands down his back basking in the smoothness of his shirt. They broke apart, breathing heavily.

"Hey. "she smirked.

"Hey." Eli chuckled. Clare ran her hands against his chest, enjoying the feel of his shirt.

"Your shirt is sooo soft." She whispered, astonished. Eli gave her an odd look.

"Uh, how much have you had to drink?"

"Only one since I got here." She replied, instantly regretting it.

"Since you got here?" he questioned

"Uh-"

"Are you alright? Do you need to lie down or something?"

"No, no. I'm great! I'm ready." Clare rambled with a grin. Eli looked unconvinced and opened his mouth to say something, but interrupted by another party-goer.

"Aha! There she is!" a voice called out. Clare had never been so happy to see Adam

"Adam!" she chirped; she couldn't stop herself from pulling him into a hug. Adam laughed at her eagerness, wrapping his arms around her.

"Dude, how drunk is she?" he asked Eli, over Clare's shoulder

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Eli chuckled; Clare pulled back from him, keeping her hands on his shoulders.

"What, I'm not allowed to show affection for one of my best friends?" she asked, pretending to be insulted. Adam snorted, shaking his head. He looked at her face, examining the grin that refused to leave. Adam's facial expression changed from happy to inquisitive. "Hn." He muttered.

"What?" Clare asked, removing her hands from his shoulders.

"Your eyes look funny." Adam pointed out.

_Shit Shit Shit - _raced through her head_  
_

Eli turned to get a better look, "How so?" he took one glance at his girlfriend's eyes and his mouth dropped. How could he have not noticed it before? The blue eyes that he adored so much were practically black.

"Clare," he said, "your pupils are _huge_."

"Uh," Adam paused, "is something wrong, Clare?"

"No, no." Clare assured, "nothing is wrong. Something is different but nothing is wrong." She gushed.

"What?" Eli asked, cocking an eyebrow. Her odd behavior was becoming worrisome to both boys.

"Uh-" Clare felt the urge to runaway, but she knew she wouldn't get very far in the crowded apartment. That annoying sense of panic had returned in full force. Luckily, and unluckily- the perfect distraction presented itself just in time.

"Fuck!" Shane yelped as he became entangled in the curtains trying to make his way back inside. He somehow managed to trip himself, landing on his back, his head at Eli's feet. Eli took one look at him and his face twisted into an angry glare.

"What's _he_ doing here?" Eli snarled.

"He doesn't get out that much." Clare explained, lamely.

He shot her a heated look, "And why should you fix that?"

Clare sighed, "He's my friend, Eli."

"Sorry to interject here," Shane said, pulling himself off the ground, "But what do you have against me, man? What did I ever do to harm you?"

Eli scoffed, "That's not the point, I just-"

"Come on, Eli. Don't be _that_ guy." Shane said suavely.

"What guy?" Eli challenged. Adam and Clare exchanged looks of apprehension

Shane grinned evilly, "You know? The guy who can't find enough security within himself to trust his girlfriend in the company of _platonic_ male friends."

"What the fuck is your problem?" Eli hissed.

Shane chuckled, "I don't have a problem, man. You do."

Clare decided to interject, "Eli, just let it go." He spun around to glare at her.

"Let _what_ go?" he spat. Clare felt a bad vibe run through her veins, prompting her to take a step back. Eli matched her, moving closer to her shuddering form. "And what's wrong with your eyes?"

"N-nothing." She stammered. Shane noticed her uneasiness and handed her a bottle of water.

"You better drink this." He advised, knowing that ecstasy caused one's body to dehydrate.

"Thanks." Clare muttered. A tense silence enclosed on the four teens as Clare took a long gulp from the bottle, emptying half of it.

A look of realization washed over Eli's face, "Oh my god, you're on drugs." He muttered in a shocked voice. Adam's eyes widened.

Clare cringed, "I can explain-"

"I gave it to her." Shane said plainly.

"What?" Eli barked, catching the attention of a few other people.

"I slipped ecstasy in her drink as a joke." Shane continued, "After it began to kick in, I told her and she got understandably upset with me. I took some myself out of guilt, so she wouldn't have to go through this alone." His voice was calm, as if dosing people was normal activity for him.

"You stupid motherfucker-" Eli growled, lunging at Shane. Shane easily, side stepped Eli's charge, causing him to barge through a group of gossiping niners. He ignored their outraged cries and darted back towards Shane again.

Acting on instinct to protect her fellow tripper, Clare jumped in front of Shane right before Eli could reach him, sticking out her elbow and jerking it back. Eli's chest collided with her elbow, causing him to fall backwards onto the floor with a hard thud; the wind sufficiently knocked out of him.

"Don't start this shit!" she snapped at as Eli writhed on the floor, trying to regain his breath.

"Clare, what the hell?" Adam cried. She turned to him,

"You don't attack someone when they're in that state of mind!" she snapped."You just don't! It's not right!"

"What the fuck does that mean?" Adam snarled, becoming annoyed with Clare's behavior.

"You wouldn't understand." Clare said, shaking her head. She matched his outraged look with a cold glare. And to think five minutes ago she was hugging this guy. Now, for some reason a voice in her head was telling her to either get out or go down in flames. Adam's eyes flickered in slight fear under her hard gaze.

"You're not acting like you." He drawled.

"This. Is. Me." Clare spat. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Shane grinning. Eli pulled himself up from his spot on the floor.

"What is going on with you?" he demanded, voice laced with judgment and rage.

Clare's face lightened in realization, she sighed.

"The mask is slipping; I don't know what else to tell you." She said with a shrug. It was the honest truth.

Eli and Adam peered at her in silence, unreadable expressions on their face.

"What the hell does that mean?" Eli scoffed. Clare couldn't help herself from rolling her eyes.

"Let's get out of here." She said to Shane. He nodded and followed after her, leaving the other boys to ponder what had just occurred.

Clare kept her head down as she passed Alli and Fiona chatting on the couch. To her amazing luck, they didn't see her.

"Clare, wait!" Eli's voice called out. Clare continued walking towards the door until she felt Eli's hand wrap around her bicep.

"Not now, I have to go." She mumbled, shaking her arm free of his grip and picking up her pace.

"Why?" Eli yelled.

Clare spun around and whispered harshly, "Because you're freaking me out right now!"

Eli's face dropped. Before she could even be bothered to listen to his comeback, Shane had opened the door for her, ushering her into the hallway.

He slammed the door shut, and Clare immediately felt relief wash through her body. The atmosphere inside the apartment was just not welcoming to people in _their_ condition. Her mood had completely shifted, again. The two teens exchanged looks of glee before taking off down the stairs, laughing uncontrollably all the way.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Warning; second rate smut ahead. Read and review at your own risk.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Chapter 17**

Clare wasn't quite sure how they ended up _here_; half-naked in Shane's old basement, wrapped up together on the couch. Her jacket and dress where lying somewhere in the front entryway while Shane's pants rested on the railing next to the stairs. All she was sure of was how _good_ it felt to be in Shane's arms, to feel his bare skin gliding over hers as his tongue did magnificent things to her mouth and body.

Reviewing the night's events in her head; Clare had an epiphany.

She pulled away from Shane who gave her an inquisitive look.

"What's up?" he asked breathlessly.

Clare cocked her eyebrow, "Shane, what do rappers call it when someone is pretending to be someone they're not?"

Shane chuckled, "Well some people refer to it as 'posing', but I think rappers typically call it 'frontin'; as in putting up a front".

She nodded, "I'm tired of frontin'."

"Fo' real?" Shane asked in a mocking, ghetto fashion. She smacked his arm and leaned into him, brushing her lips against his.

"Fo' real." She smiled and crushed her lips to his. Shane ran his hands over her smooth back, unclasping her bra to cover more territory. He pulled away.

"God your skin feels amazing!" he growled.

"You know what would feel even more amazing?" Clare whispered seductively. Without waiting for his answer, she tugged on his boxer shorts. Shane picked up fast.

"Seriously?" he asked in disbelief, grinning wildly.

"Why not?" Clare shrugged while pulling his boxers over his ankles.

"I'm not dreaming am I?" Shane whispered. Clare grabbed his hardness, earning a gasp.

"No," she breathed, "far from it." She leaned in and kissed him slowly while running her fingers over his shaft. Shane reached up and pulled her bra the rest of the way off her body, chucking it on the floor while never tearing his lips from hers. He placed both hands on her breasts, teasing her hardened peaks with his thumbs.

Clare pulled away to moan loudly; being with Shane had never felt _this_ good. Even in the past, their exploits were hard and sloppy. It was one of the reasons why she refused to give in to his advances while with Eli (until now). Shane just couldn't do what Eli could do to her- set her world and body on fire.

But tonight was different. Ecstasy, the "love drug" as Bianca had called it- opened a new way of experiencing things; of _truly_ feeling things. Clare knew her actions were caused by her drug induced state, and in the back if her mind she knew there would be repercussions to _all_ of her actions that night.

But the night wasn't over yet.

Shane suddenly pulled away, rolling out from under her and planting his feet on the cold floor.

"Where are you going?" Clare asked, somewhat annoyed.

He shot her a wicked grin, "To get a condom." He plodded over to the stairs, pulling his pants from where they were draped over the railing. He his wallet out of the back pocket and extracted a foil package.

"Hurry up!" Clare barked from the couch.

"Coming, coming…" Shane chuckled while making his way back to the couch. Clare couldn't help but giggle at his words.

"Hopefully not before me." She stated, wearing an expectant look.

"Hah, perv." Shane clucked. He hovered over her, bringing his lips to her neck while removing her black lace panties and dipping two fingers inside of her. "Christ, you're drenched!" he drawled.

Clare's body fluttered at the feel if his fingers running over her inner walls. "Ah!" she cried out, bringing a fist to her mouth and biting down in effort to stifle her moans. Shane pushed her hand away and moved his body lower.

"No need to be quiet." Shane reminded her. There were no parents sleeping upstairs to wake up. There was no one.

He removed his fingers from her center, replacing them with his tongue. Clare screamed as he thrust his tongue in and out before sucking hard on her clit. Her arms and legs started trembling, and a coil in her stomach threatened to burst; but she wasn't ready to let go just yet.

She pushed Shane's head away from her crouch and placed her hands on his bare shoulders, lifting her body up to lean him back against the couch. She straddled his legs and picked up the forgotten condom from it's place on the floor.

"I got that." Shane said huskily, plucking it from her fingers, quickly extracting the laytex shield from it's wrapper and rolling it onto his cock. He gripped himself at the base of his member and gave Clare a nod.

She lifted herself onto her knees, and hovered over his awaiting hardness. He grabbed her hips and guided her down, sliding his cock into her. She hissed at the slight stinging sensation, earning a look of concern from Shane. He softened his grip on her hips, and stared into her eyes with questioning means.

Clare bit her lip and took a deep breath before slamming her body the rest of the way down, earning a load moan from both teens. Shane grit his teeth at the overpowering sensation, she was the most wonderful feeling in the world. Clare felt the initial shock and pain of tearing her hymen begin to fade into a dull throb.

She experimentally moved her hips forward and back and threw her head back at the instant wave of pleasure that slammed into her body. Shane wrapped his arms around her and began thrusting his hips up while nibbling on her pale shoulders.

Satisfied moans and the occasional profanity echoed against the barren walls of the cellar, coupled with their heavy breathing. Clare began to feel somewhat overwhelmed by the feel of his chest pressed against hers combined with his rhythmic thrusts. She pushed his shoulders roughly, his head thumping against the cushioned arm of the couch. He stared up at Clare in shock as she began fastening her movements. Back and forth thrusts turned to side-to-side jerks before settling on moving her hips in a circle, hitting several deep spots within her.

Shane gripped her hips with his hands, sliding them down to grip her ass and aid her sensual movements around his manhood. She could feel her orgasm coming at an alarming rate; her heart had never beaten so hard in a situation such as this.

Moments later her body stiffened before succumbing to earth-shattering tremors and the most intense feeling of pleasure to ever run through her that it was almost borderline painful in the most amazing way. Shane's thrusts grew erratic before he too let go, shaking on the couch while moaning her name.

Once the final shudders had faded, Clare raised herself off Shane, biting her lip at the raw sensitivity pounding in her nether regions. She was nonetheless satisfied as she leaned against the armrest opposite of Shane.

Shane peered at her, chest heaving up and down. "Damn." He grinned tiredly, "I didn't know you could move like that."

Clare steadied her breathing and ran and hand through her sweaty bangs, "I didn't know it was possible for your first time to feel that good." She admitted.

He licked his lips, "Ecstasy definitely played a role in that." He pointed out.

"I know." Clare said softly. Shane hoisted himself up from his spot and laid his body down beside her,

wrapping an arm around her waist. He nuzzled his face into her neck.

"Why wouldn't you sleep with me before?" he asked softly.

Clare sighed, thinking about Eli. "Because sex without love is meaningless, and I just don't care anymore."

Shane lifted his head and stared at her.

"So then what do you call this?" he asked curiously, motioning to the both of them.

She shrugged, "Does it matter?" Shane shot her a meaningful look and shook his head. No further words needed to be spoken at the time.

He buried his face back into her neck and sighed with content at the relaxing feeling overtaking his body. Clare too, felt an overwhelming weight impress itself onto her. She couldn't move from her place on the couch, and quite frankly she didn't want to. All she wanted was to enjoying the lasting positive effects of the drug as she approached the imminent come down.

* * *

She awoke to the instant feeling of regret. Soul-crushing, earth shattering, nail-biting regret. She regretted accepting a drink from Shane, she regretted going to the party with Shane, she regretted upsetting Eli with Shane.

But most understandable of all; she regretted sleeping with Shane.

Shane remained asleep, breathing softly out his nose. His back was pressed up against the backrest of the couch, an arm slung over her waist. Clare silently unraveled herself from him arms and stood up. Her muscles ached with a sleepy soreness that threatened to push her back down to the couch, but she persisted, grabbing her undergarments off the floor and slipping them on.

Unable to remain in the basement any longer at the onslaught of last night's memories, Clare made her way up the steps to locate the rest of her clothing. She found her dress crumbled on the doormat in the entry way. She pulled the garment over her head, smoothing out it's wrinkles and lifted her jacket off the ground, tucking it beneath her arm.

She headed back down to the basement, Shane was still asleep.

He looked almost foreboding, stretched out, naked with a soft hint of a smile on his dormant face. She was fearful of his awakening; how would he act? Shane had proved to be somewhat unpredictable over the past months. Would he blackmail her yet again? Threaten to tell Eli _everything_ that ever happened between them?

Shane was a dangerous presence in her life; not that she ever minded before. She used to enjoy the danger that he brought into her sheltered world. But now, things just seemed…different. She might've given him her virginity, but she refused to lose what was left of her sanity (if she had any begin with) to Shane Newman.

She refused to lose the life she built for herself; even if it was a monumental lie. It was _her_ lie.

Also, something that was evident was how alike yet different the two teens were. Both witnessed gruesome cruelty and death at a young age; events that changed their lives forever. They had the same dark urges, the same nihilistic outlook on life, the same un-ending anger.

But how they both controlled these traits, differed greatly.

Shane was unafraid of what he was, almost to the point where he was proud of his darkness; never attempting to hide it. Clare, on the other hand, did everything in her power to hide her true self; knowing that the consequences of exposure could result in life imprisonment.

She spotted Shane's backpack at the bottom of the steps and plucked it up; rifling through its contents to see if there was anything to smoke. Her hands folded around a small leather case and extracted it from the bag. She unzipped the case to find that it did indeed hold drugs; but not the kind she was looking for.

Two syringes lay side by side along with a small glass bottle. She picked up the bottle, twisting it around in her fingers to get a look at the label. It read "M99" along with directions for use in fine print underneath. Clare had heard Shane talk about this stuff before, but she wasn't aware that he actually carried it on him. M99, a powerful animal tranquilizer, was normally only available to veterinarians who had legitimate use for the drug. Apparently Shane drug connections were not only limited to recreational street drugs, but poisonous chemicals as well. Her memory flickered with the image of Randall, lying unconscious in the hospital bed while Clare killed him with a chemical meant for death row inmates.

An idea flashed in her head, one that could not be ignored.

Clare pulled out one of the syringes, removed the shield and plunged it into the rubber stopper of the bottle, extracting a small dosage of the tranquilizer. She leaned over Shane's form on the couch and jabbed the point into the juncture of lean muscle between his neck and shoulder.

His eyes snapped open in surprise at the painful interruption to his slumber. Clare pushed down on the plunger and his eyes became heavy once again.

* * *

Shane awoke to the smell of gasoline tormenting his nose. He yawned loudly and opened his eyes to see that he was no longer on the couch, but tied in tightly to a wooden chair.

"What the fuck?" he mumbled before trying to wiggle his body free from the restraints. But it was no use. He spotted Clare's back turned to him on the far side of the room.

"What the fuck is this?" he shouted, catching her attention. Clare spun around to look at him; she was holding a red can of gasoline.

"Oh, you're up." She said blandly, making her way towards him.

"What's going on? Why did you pour gasoline all over the place?" he asked frantically.

"To cleanse myself of certain sins." She replied sarcastically.

"Come on, this isn't funny! Untie me!"

"Nope." Clare replied with boredom.

"Dammit Clare!" he snapped.

Clare gave him an ominous look, "I can't let _this_ get out."

"Is that what your worried about? I'm not going tell anyone that we fucked, Clare."

"Yeah, you say that now; but I can't really put much trust into you now can I?"

"You can put _all_ your trust into me; you know that!"

Clare laughed humorlessly, "Please, you threatened to expose me once before; and it was only because you were sick of being ignored. Is that what you do to people who trust you, Shane? Blackmail them?"

"This is different." Shane croaked.

"No it's not."

He scoffed, "So what are you gonna so now then? Kill me? Just like Randall and Darcy? Making a habit of it, huh?"

She shrugged, "I've already come this far."

"Don't do this!" he pleaded.

"I have to do this; you've left me no other choice." Clare snapped back, angrily.

"If you kill me, you kill the one person in this world who understands you." Shane reminded her. "Without me, you're all alone."

Clare shook her head, sadly. "My mind is already made up, Shane."

Shane's eyes started to moisten; a sight she had never seen before.

"Just- just don't. I would not betray you like that, Clare. I know I did it before, but I wouldn't do something if it meant losing you. Hell, I'd do anything for you." He swallowed back a sob, "I'd burn the world for you."

She sighed. "You don't have to get all sentimental; I know what I am to you." she glowered. "But I _have_ other people in my life, and they need me too." She paused, "And I have to be someone else for them; I can't let them know about what I really am. It would destroy them."

Shane scoffed harshly, "You care too much about what other people think."

Clare allowed herself a sad smile at his comment. It was true; and he wasn't the first person to ever say that to her. KC and Eli both voiced their opinions on her repressed manner in the past; if only they knew that the Clare they knew was merely a solid illusion.

"Well, in my situation, I kind of have to be aware of what others think of me. It's the only way to protect my cover."

He shook his head in obvious disappointment. "The mask of Saint Clare." He mumbled beneath his breath.

She peered at him, as if copying the image to memory. There sat the only person who would ever accept her for all she was and ever will be; and she was about to set him on fire, in homage to his dear old dad.

Clare shook her head, pushing that thought from her mind.

Shane was a wounded animal, much like her. Sure, sometimes you could remove the thorn and tame the beast of his murderous ways. But putting him down, was the more popular option in such circumstances.

She picked up the gasoline can from the floor and tilted it above Shane's head. He sat completely still as the acrid liquid doused his already sweaty form, plastering his hair to his head and dripping down his chest.

Clare moved back, spilling a trail of gasoline onto the floor that led to just short of the bottom foot of the stairs. She tossed the empty can aside and pulled out a zippo lighter she had stolen from Shane's bag.

"Any final words?" she asked softly.

Shane looked up from his lap, his eyes glistening with unshed tears and anticipation.

"I love you." He said, barely above a whisper. Clare heard him.

"You're not capable of such a thing Shane." Clare said sadly. "Neither of us are."

Shane opened his mouth to retaliate, but started screaming instead. Clare struck up the lighter and dropped it the floor, stepping back as trail of fire emitted from the floor, making it's way quickly to the chair.

Clare walked up the steps, looking over the side as Shane's body became engulfed in a ball of fire. Flames spat out from his form onto the gasoline soaked walls, quickly turning their former haven into a pit of fire. She could barely hear Shane's cries over the roaring flames as she reached the first floor and exited the house out the front.

The sun was just beginning to rise.

* * *

**A/N: Well, this is the last chapter. Next to last chapter, if you want to get technical. Obviously, there are still some loose ends to tie up. I have an epilogue in the works that will go up tomorrow.  
**


	18. Epilogue

**A/N: This is the end.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**Epilogue**

_The sun was just beginning to rise._

Clare let out a sad sigh and walked briskly down the sidewalk. It was only a matter of time before the fire spread from the basement to the rest of the house; attracting the attention of neighbors and the fire department. Shane would be an identifiable piece of toast by then. The thought of which sent an eerie chill down her spine.

Despite the unavoidable sadness that overtook her heart as a result of killing her best friend, Clare couldn't help but feel a sense of spiritual cleansing come over her. Not that she had much of a spirit to redeem; but the concept was all the same.

Without Shane in her world she would be able to focus on things that really mattered; her education, her path in life, Eli.

_Eli_

She cringed at the thought of throwing her virginity away on Shane. The one shred of pureness left in her should have gone to someone who would honor it; who would honor her and love her without pushing her to the edge. But what was done, was done. There was nothing she could do to retrieve her virginity. The only thing she could now was confront Eli and hope that he would take her back with minimal questions.

It seemed that she had been getting closer and closer to losing him forever. Her web of lies had driven their relationship into fragile territory; the distance, the fights, the constant cycle of pushing each other away and making up.

Somehow, she had managed to turn Eli into a bit of a pushover during the course of their relationship. She imagined his relationship with Julia presented a fair share of two-sided screaming matches. But between them, Eli had fallen into the habit of surprising her with forgiveness. Setting aside his own pride to make their relationship last longer.

But things were different this time. She had royally fucked shit up between them; let him see a side of her that was supposed to remain hidden. Eli knew her as the kindhearted, church-going, no-nonsense girl. Last night she had put herself on display as the violent, raging, drug-popping nihilist that only Shane had been allowed to see in the past.

She had yelled at him, embarrassed him, and physically assaulted him.

There was no way he would be so forgiving this time around. The duty of salvaging what was left of their relationship rested on Clare's shoulders.

She didn't have much confidence in the matter.

* * *

Most of the day was spent in a dreamless sleep brought on by the after effects of the drug. Her mind, and body were both exhausted. She awoke around midnight and checked her phone for any messages from her friends. There were plenty.

Surprisingly, most of the messages were sent to her by Adam and Alli; apparently word had gotten out about her super-intoxicated state. Both friends asked if she was okay before ramming her to explain her actions. It became apparent that she had a lot more people to explain her actions too than just Eli. Her reputation, her life as Clare Edwards was in danger of cracking apart; exposing the horrible monster hidden beneath the deceiving shell.

There was only one text from Eli, received mere hours after she had left the party.

_I'm really pissed off at you right now. But please let me know that you're alright.- Eli_

Her heart melted out of adoration and guilt.

Disregarding the late hour, Clare spent the next few minutes tapping away at her phone, continually deleting and re-typing her words anxiously. Modern technology was a sham at communicating actual emotions.

_Sorry to get back to you so late. I'm fine. Can we please talk tomorrow? – Clare_

She hit the send button and fell back against her pillow, still exhausted. She reached over to drop her phone on the night stand and picked up a plastic water bottle, bringing it to her parched lips. She almost sputtered all over her bed when her phone buzzed with a text alert. It was as if Eli had been sitting by his phone, waiting for her to answer. Either he was too proud or too pissed off to send his usual stream of messages when it took her more than an hour to get back to him.

_Ok- Eli_

Clare sighed at his short response. No "I'm glad your okay" or "I was so worried about you" or "I forgive you for everything as long as you never see that asshole again".

He was pissed at her, but what exactly for? It usually proved to be a mystery with Eli. When he saw Shane at Randall's funeral, she thought he would yell at her for it; he ended up apologizing for telling her he loved her at the wrong time. When she thought he would be mad at her for drunkenly attacking Fitz, he was made about her being in Shane's presence.

But this time was different, she had let her true colors shine through. What would he be more upset about? Bringing Shane to the party? Being on drugs?

Assaulting him?

Nobody liked a hypocrite. And Clare had proven herself to be one; reacting with violence on her own boyfriend after countless requests for him to refrain from fighting.

Shane seemed to be a source of problems for their relationship. But not anymore.

Things would be different now. Without Shane, she was free. There were no empty threats to keep her distracted from her perfectly constructed life. No devil on her shoulder swaying her into returning to old habits. The only thing keeping her darkness in check was her, as it should be.

Looking back on everything, she had taken Eli for granted; he wasn't just another part of her mask as "Saint Clare". He was her reason to be better, to strive for things she usually pushed aside as petty matters. When she was with Eli, she felt like a good person, the person everyone but herself was convinced she really was. Maybe Eli was just as naive as everyone else who fell under the spell of her mask; but he was the only thing worth living _that_ life for. He gave her existence as Clare Edwards purpose; the purpose to find love and to build a life that was not her parents' but her own.

She had to make things right with him again, and this time she had to keep them that way.

* * *

With a final deep breath to calm her shaking nerves, Clare rang to doorbell to Eli's house. She had never been so nervous to see him. After what felt like a painful eternity, the door slowly cracked open to reveal Eli with a somber look on his face. He was dressed in black skinny jeans and white v-neck, his feet were bare.

"Hey." He greeted quietly.

"Hey." Clare replied awkwardly.

He moved aside to let her in, shutting the door behind him. Without a word or even a glance, he began walking upstairs. A silent Eli was never a good sign. Clare stood nervously at the foot of the stairs for a moment before following in his path.

They entered his room. For the first time in a while, Clare felt like a foreign presence in his domicile; like she didn't belong. Like she wasn't even wanted. Eli plopped down on the foot of his bed. Clare, feeling hesitant about joining him, took a seat in his rolling desk chair, spinning to face him.

Eli looked at her expectantly. She didn't know where to start; apologizing, explaining her actions, erasing his memory of everything that happened last night.

"I'm sorry I hit you." She blurted out.

"Is that all?" Eli glowered.

She sighed, "Not even close to it. I'm sorry for a lot of things, I just didn't really know where to start." She admitted.

"Was that your first time?"

Her heart dropped, thinking back to her romp with Shane.

"What?"

"Was that your first time on ecstasy?" Eli asked. She was hoping he wouldn't ask about her past drug use.

"No," she answered honestly, "I've done it before, willingly."

"With Shane?" Eli pressed

"Eli, it was before I met you-" she defended.

He held up a hand to silence her, "Still; why didn't you ever tell me you did that stuff?"

"I _don't_ have a drug problem, if that's what you're implying." Clare snapped.

"I know you don't, Clare. If you did, it'd be obvious." Eli assured her.

"I just-" Clare shook her head, "I just thought that if you saw that part of me-if you knew that part of me…than you'd dump me or something."

"What?" Eli asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Everyone has always seen me as this straight-laced, do-everything-by-the-book type of girl." Clare ranted. "Sometimes…I just want to escape from that." She admitted. "Shane has sort of always been that escape…but not anymore."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I've…terminated our friendship." Clare said, looking down at her feet. "I realized that he only brings out the worst part of me."

"Oh." Eli said simply. Clare had been hoping that he would shout for joy upon hearing of her "estrangement" from Shane.

She cleared her throat, "Anyway, I just want you to know that I regret a lot about last night…I can understand if you never want to see me again, I wouldn't. I'm a horrible person, and I'm sorry I led you on to believe differently". She paused, reflecting on her choice of words; words that Eli had said to her before they were together.

_I'm sorry I led you on._

"I'm sorry I couldn't be the person you thought I was." Clare whispered. She couldn't even bring herself to look up at his reaction. His silence said all she needed to know. Slowly, she got up from her seat and walked toward the door.

And then, something unusual happened.

Tears, legitimate, unforced tears began to pool in her eyes. She usually only found herself in tears after one of her graphic dreams, unsure of how they got there. Had it really been that long since she cried for real; that she had forgotten what it felt like to fall into deep pain?

Her shaking hand reached for the doorknob, unable to actually make out the copper handle against the wood through her blurred vision. A second, a larger hand, suddenly enclosed around her wrist, halting her movements.

"Clare," Eli breathed. She moved her hand to her face and rubbed her eyes, strangled sobs were beginning to form in her throat, trying to get out. Eli gently led her away from the door, towards his bed. He sat her down and instead of joining her, kneeled down in front of her, pulling her hands into his.

Clare felt her heart soar.

He rubbed small circles on her skin, a contemplative look etched on his face. He raised his head to meet her glimmering blue eyes.

"This is a lot take in." he sighed. "You know when you find out that someone you love has been keeping things hidden, and putting their life and health at risk, it's kind of a slap to the face." He chuckled darkly. "What's worse is knowing that I was never able to see the signs until they were thrown at me. It makes me think, am I really that stupid? Or are you just an incredible actress?"

She felt her heart drop back to the pit of her stomach.

Eli pulled his hands away and rested them on his legs, hanging his head.

"I can't be with someone who keeps things from me, Clare." He croaked.

Clare's lips parted in surprise; _it was over. _She had failed. She shook her head, trying to clear her head of the violent thoughts that began to bubble in her mind.

_Punch him in the jaw._

_ Kick him in the stomach_

_ Stomp on his heart in a physical sense._

Part of her wanted to inflict this type of pain on him because that's what she felt at the moment; in pain. Technically, he had only seen a _glimpse_ of her true self, and he didn't like it.

_Why would anyone like it?_

Instead of submitting to her dark urges, she sniffled and brought her hands to her face to shield her sadness and anger. She just wanted to disappear right there and then. She didn't even want to face the prospect of walking out of his house for the last time.

She felt a pair of hands touch her knees, but she refused to look.

"But-" Eli choked out. Clare stiffened in anticipation.

"I can't be without _you_." Eli's he whispered. She dropped her hands and looked down at him. He was giving her a pleading look, tears were visible in his eyes. Clare slid off the bed to her knees and wrapped her arms around him, utterly relieved when she felt his arms encircle her tightly.

The feeling of his warm body pressed up against her shaking form was more intense than the most powerful drug.

"Please," she murmured into his ear, "please forgive me. I'll do whatever it take to have trust me again, just please; let me redeem yourself in your eyes."

Eli pulled back and looked at her, a small hint of smile etched onto his tear-stained face.

"You don't have to do anything." He breathed, "Just be honest with me." Clare almost cringed at his words, but nodded nonetheless. He brushed a thumb against her cheek, wiping away a few stray tears.

Eli slid his hands from her waist to her hips, giving her a questioning look. Clare lips spread into a smile, earning a delighted grin from her reconciled boyfriend. He leaned forward and captured her lips to signal the start of a new era in their relationship; one where they would be _both_ be honest and open.

They remained on their knees, wrapped up in each other.

As she enjoyed his gentle caress and the soft feel of his lips moving with hers, Clare assured herself that things with Eli could work. And if she ever found the nerve to do so, maybe one day she would tell him the truth.

About her past with Shane.

About her real mother.

About _her._

But then, a low growl sounded somewhere in the recesses of her mind. She halted her optimistic thoughts but never once slowed down her ministrations with Eli. She might have killed Shane, but she could never kill _that_ part of her.

She almost smacked herself at the momentary lapse in judgment. Because whether she liked it or not, telling the truth, like Shane once said, was always overrated.

Some people, _most people_, were better off in the dark.

**FIN**

* * *

**A/N: Well all good (and disturbing) things must come to an end. I do have a plot in mind for a potential sequel that contains a new OC and some Flare action. I really want to write it, but I am currently in the process of moving to a new city and finding a job; so writing fanfics is not my top priority at the moment. That being said, if I am able to write a sequel, it won't be up for a little while.**

**To all my reviewers, THANK YOU! Your positive input is what motivated me to post updates quickly and follow through with this story. I'm so glad you all enjoyed my twisted little story.**


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